Shattered Winter
by saka moon
Summary: After 200 years alone, Jack thinks nothing can be worse... until he is captured by a stranger who holds him captive for half a century. Fifty years later, MiM chooses Jack to be a Guardian but he is broken, shattered by his isolation and confinement, and the Guardians must figure out what's wrong and how to help him, all while protecting the world from Pitch.
1. In Which Jack Is No Longer Alone

Jack is lonely.

... Well not that that's anything new, really. Jack's been alive - if anyone could call it that - for a little over two hundred years now, and never once has he held a conversation, been seen, or been touched. Sure, he has the wind, and Jack loves the wind, but, if he is being honest with himself, the wind isn't the best for companionship. Feelings are to it what hugs are to Jack - foreign and bewildering, although perhaps less desperately longed for. Jack doesn't blame it; the wind is age-old, free, formless. (_except Jack still finds himself wishing the wind could understand his pain_)

Regardless of personal wishes, however, Jack is still used to being alone (_ignored, nonexistent_) so he's taken to being an observer. Humans are interesting to say the least. He doesn't understand it, really; humans can love, can touch, and Jack doesn't understand why, when people have so much, they claim they must go to war for more. But nobody hears Jack's questions so they all ignorantly continue on with their War to End All Wars while he watches (_forevermore, forevermore_).

Despite his desperate pleas in the night, Jack is used to being alone (_hated by those precious few supposedly like him - who can see him_) so when someone suddenly flies in front of Jack, and Jack bumps into him (_actually touches! touches!_) Jack quickly tries to get away, only to be grabbed at the wrist.

"You're Jack Frost?" The other says, something of excitement coloring his voice. (_But it can't be - who would be excited for Jack Frost?_)

Hesitantly the frost child turns to be met with hair of shocking orange and eyes that seem to embody the very spirit of every beautiful sun ever set. Jack replies with a small affirmative, his voice still slightly raspy from his repeated shouting at the moon last night.

"That's great!" and Jack is frozen by the genuine joy in his eyes and the soft grip on his wrist, "I've been looking for you,"

Jack's world goes black.

Jack is in pain.

...but then again, that's no longer new. His wrists are bound above his head, ropes chafing as he once again struggles to free himself. His cloak is ruined, torn and bloody, his skin underneath matching. His staff is torturously just out of reach, dangling dangerously closely to a fire. And the room is warm - oh so warm. It's making it hard to think - hard to move - and all Jack can wonder is, why why why? Why me?

But perhaps he was saying it out loud because the man of shocking orange and sunsets just chuckles and replies (_as he wipes off a newly bloodied knife and steps out of the room, not even bothering to close the door_) "Because I can, Jack, and no one will ever punish me for it,"

And despite how warm the room is, despite how his very soul (_does he even have one - he wonders?_) feels charred as a bit of hot ash lands on his staff, Jack freezes. He is invisible (_ignored, non-existent_); he is a fairy-tail, and no one will save him.

...Except don't fairy tales have happy endings? The princess always gets rescued and damsel saved. Why shouldn't Jack? Yes, the Moon knows he exists and so does the Wind; surely they will save him, or find someone to do it (_even if the wind never talks to anyone except Jack and the moon ignored him for centuries_).

Jack can't give up hope. Someone will come, and he will meet them halfway. So, bloody and beaten, Jack tries once more to break free from his restraints.

Jack is broken.

And he is revolted at how that is no longer new. Scars, both old and fresh, litter his body, his clothes having long been discarded. The door lies mockingly open in front of him, and he is no longer bound, but he can't really find the will to try to escape again. Outside of the ridiculously hot room with the fire is a pitch black maze, and rather than go through that, Jack would rather lie and pretend that the ache in his lower back and the liquid still dripping from him isn't what it is.

"Oh, what's wrong? My little Snowflake doesn't have fight left?" The mocking (_evil, burning_) voice of the man of twilight rings out. Jack doesn't bother to reply, opting to stare at his staff (_still just out of reach, if he would just crawl a few inches..._) now heavily pockmarked - nearly entirely black - from the numerous embers that jumped at it, "Hmm," Jack feels his head yanked and suddenly he is back staring at twin sunsets, "What a shame. I think I've finally broken you," he mumbles almost to himself, "Well, you lasted quite a while. I suppose a little reward is due,"

Almost gently, the man picks Jack up, and by instinct Jack tries meekly to escape the grasp, "Oh! So you do still have a little kick," he exclaims delightfully, "well then, you might just actually survive! Good on you," He takes Jack's charred staff and hands it to the frost child; Jack clutches at it desperately as it frosts over - but only just.

Jack isn't sure what's going on as the man who...who did things carries him through the terrible maze, but even though he has his staff back and is out of the boiling room, Jack's powers and strength are near non-existent (_just like him, just like him_) so all he can do is curl up and hope. Hope.

Hope, still, that someone will come. They'll come. They must. Fairytales always have a happy ending.

Jack has to close his eyes from the suddenly intense light, but before he can even reopen them, he is carelessly tossed into a snowbank. It takes Jack far longer than it should to realize that he is outside. Suddenly not caring about the blinding light, Jack's eyes shoot open and he stares at the open sky. Dumfounded, and more than disoriented by everything, Jack cranes his head to stare at the sunset man from his crumpled position on the ground.

"Well, you're free. Go on. Shoo," The man flicks his hands at Jack as if he is an unwanted rodent in his yard. When Jack just continues to stare, the man seems to come to a conclusion, "Oh, right, I said something about a reward, right? Here, take these. Congrats on lasting over half a century. New record you know," A heap of cloth is thrown on Jack's head. By the time he takes them off to realize they are actually clothes, the man of sunsets and his cave lair are gone as if they'd never been there.

Jack gapes for a moment more before standing up and robotically putting on the clothes (a blue hooded sweatshirt and, surprisingly, his old pants - tattered though they were, they were still wearable). Afterward, Jack remains in his spot listlessly. No one came. No one saved him. In the end, his captor had gotten bored and tossed him like trash (_like a broken toy, once again unwanted_).

The wind tousles his hair asking why he was gone so long. Does he want to play? Of course he does; the frost child always wants to play. What kind of games can they play?

No one came. No one came. noonecamenoonecamenoonecame.

"Yes, lets play," Jack's voice, still raspy from the wretched pleas, whispers. No one knew he existed? Fine. Jack would make sure everyone knew. Jack picks up his staff, bringing it above his head with both hands, "Lets have a race," Jack doesn't need to elaborate; the wind always instinctively knows Jack's intentions and plays along happily.

"Game. Start," Jack brings down the staff, and the resulting storm lasts for days. Winds blow and frost grows, and people can swear the two are racing against each other. Jack marches along as he spreads his art, the winds raging ever faster in an attempt to keep up with his ever-growing storm. When he reaches the ocean, he doesn't so much as pause, simply walking on, the water obediently freezing below him.

When all is said and done, newscasters will go on for weeks about how a freak snowstorm covering half of North America and most of Europe cancelled Easter on a near global level. The death-toll ends up being frighteningly high and scientists will somehow attribute all this to global warming.

Jack knows none of this, though, as he sits in a low-hanging branch of a tree he found earlier, well and truly exhausted. The winds triumphantly twirl about him (_I won I won echoes all around him_). Jack chuckles at its antics, momentarily grasping some sense of himself in the wake of the storm. Never had he unleashed himself like that, and the concentration it took allowed him to push aside... Jack doesn't get a chance to shove away the thought before he hears footsteps.

"Hey, you the one that's causing all these storms?" comes a heavily accented Australian voice. Jack is excited, can't help but be excited. His plan worked! Finally, someone to recognize his existence! Someone to prove he wasn't, in fact, trash (_broken, unwanted_). Jack doesn't even care that said person is a ridiculously tall, bipedal rabbit holding a boomerang in one hand and a basket full of painted eggs in the other.

Jack hops off the tree and walks up to his company, only to be shoved down, aggravating the more recent wounds on his back. The boomerang is thrust inches from his nose, "Listen 'ere. I don' know who ya think ya are, but ya can' jus' go 'round ruinin' people's holidays!" The man (_rabbit?_) fumes.

Shocked, Jack opens his mouth to explain but is cutoff, "No, shut up ya pommy bastard," Jack hadn't even started speaking, "there's no excuse for - for this! I don't know what ya were tryin' ta accomplish, but people everywhere are dyin' cause of ya. Dyin'! And if I ever see your ruddy face on my holiday again, I will pummel it in. Got that?"

Jack just blinks, but the aggressor seems to take that as an affirmative, pulling back and walking away mumbling about his hatred of "bloody winter sprites and their bloody selfishness," Jack watches as the rabbit (_man?_) thumps the ground, opening a hole and promptly going down it, giving Jack one last glare.

Jack's body aches, burns, and a bone-deep weariness settles in his soul but that's not what keeps him on the ground. No, the rabbit-man's last words do. Is Jack really selfish?

_Yes_, another part of him answers, _of course he is_. How selfish it was, to think he deserved a prince charming. Jack can't believe that he really thought he could have a... a friend (_a confidant, a hug_). Yes, he _sees_ now. He was selfish, and that was why, when he sought touch he got injury and when he sought attention he gained hatred. Yes, it makes sense. Jack was selfish.

But no more.

Standing up, Jack opens his mouth and tries to call for the wind.

But no sound comes forth.

Jack tries again, to no avail.

Even his voice has left him.

...but perhaps that is for the best too.

Jack does not need to call; the wind always knows what he wants and lifts him up, taking him anywhere, everywhere while Jack resolves himself (_silently as his falling snow_) to never be selfish again.

It doesn't matter that he will have no one to talk to.

It doesn't matter that he'll never experience a hug.

It doesn't matter that he can no longer call for attention.

Yes Jack will be alone (_forevermore, forevermore_)

...but after all, that's not anything new.


	2. In Which Jack Likes Pie

... Or In Which Jack Shows That Just Because Someone Has Major Issues And Is Manic Depressive Doesn't Mean That Said Person Can't Also Be BA.

Jack stares longingly at the pie on the windowsill before him. Normally, he wouldn't let something like that get to him, but it is a blueberry pie, and Jack so loves blueberries. And people rarely cook homemade pies these days. And it is simply perfection. And how long has it been since Jack has eaten? Five decades? Ten? Surely they wouldn't mind if he had a little taste...

"Mel, Dinner's ready, and if you eat all your veggies, I have a surprise for desert," cries a motherly voice from within that Jack's whole everything recoils from. The wind obeys his silent plea to take him elsewhere, anywhere but the delicious blueberry pie that isn't his. It is for a child who could love and be loved and share. It is for people who need food to survive. Not Jack who wants it simply because it tastes good. It is for Mel and her mother and her dog. The pie is not his.

And Jack mustn't be selfish.

Jack lands atop one of the many storm-clouds overhead, his new home. (except don't homes need families?) Jack had never realized how much he wanted until he tried to stop wanting it. It is almost frightening, the sheer magnitude of his previous selfishness. He wanted new clothes. But why? These ones are perfectly fine (even if they remind him daily of heat and pain and...and...). He wanted to eat. But why? He doesn't need it, and he hardly thinks food'll taste good when he eats it by himself (even if he can almost remember how wonderful dinner tastes after a hard-day's work), and there's no point in wasting good food on him. He wants to sleep, but sleep is a luxury meant for those who are tucked in at night and kissed on the forehead and told fantastical tales of princesses and knights in shining armor, and Jack has nothing to do with fairytales (no one came. No one). No wonder Jack was always disappointed about something, and, though he is still working on perfecting the art of wanting-naught, his life is already so much better. He wants so many fewer things, and is thus considerably less disappointed when he doesn't get them (he tells himself - over and over).

The wind calls him out of his reverie. It wants to play, and Jack agrees because it would be selfish to reject the wind's request just because he feels a little down about not getting the blueberry-pie (which he doesn't want. Doesn't want. Doesn't want). So the wind wants to play, and Jack lets it carries him where it will.

Jack finds himself in Burgess, the only town whose name he ever bothers to remember anymore because it is where he woke up all those years ago (and was first ignored, rejected). He brings snow, soft and gentle (mustn't bring a storm, mustn't seek attention, mustn't be selfish) and the resulting snow day brings others happiness, which, he thinks, is probably a good thing.

But the wind is quickly getting bored again; it's tired of holding snowflakes. It wants to toss something heavier, so Jack obliges, casting a child onto his sled, and together Jack and the wind direct the screaming (and Jack cringes at every sound) child though busy walkways and intersections and finally, when the boy builds enough speed, Jack builds a ramp to toss him though the air.

For a few precious seconds, the child is weightless - the wind alone holding him up - before he crashes into a snow-bank. Jack steps delicately onto the statue nearby, and watches as the kids stare in amazement, and the kid laughs in earnest, and starts to feel inkling of... joy? The nearly forgotten emotion bubbles in his chest and brings a small (foreign) smile to his face.

Then a couch slams into the child.

Jack flinches and flies away (that was fun! the wind howls around him) as the onlookers shout in worry. Jack spends the rest of the day avoiding everyone, keeping high in the air away from dangerous desires and emotions. He doesn't come back down until well into nightfall, when he is sure that everyone is asleep (tucked-in, loved) and there is no one to hurt by having fun. The Sandman's golden streams illuminate the night, so Jack lands in an alleyway because he is tempted to run a hand through them (and he mustn't be selfish).

But Jack will allow himself to stare. Yes, surely it won't hurt anything to watch the numerous golden rivers overhead as they bring sweet dreams, right?

" 'Ello mate, been a long time. Blizzard of '68, I believe. Easter Sunday wasn't it?" Jack flinches and whips around, his staff aimed at the shadow talking to him. That is, until the shadow steps into the light and reveals himself to be the rabbit-man from so long ago.

Jack isn't sure what to think about this, didn't he say he would hurt Jack next time they saw each other? Is looking at the golden streams wrong after all? Jack pulls the staff in front of him defensively and cocks his head because it seems almost as if the rabbit-man is awaiting a response.

After an awkward moment of silence the other speaks up, "Well, this is about somethin' else. Fellas, nab 'im,"

Before Jack can react, a pair of strong hands grab him from behind (hands rake down his back and pain flares everywhere they touch; new wounds are inflicted) and Jack thrashes but he can't get away. He's stuffed into a sack (Jack can't see. It's hot and dark and he's lost) and is thrown (tossed into a heap of snow, naked, defiled, like trash) landing on hard ground, still thrashing.

Finally, finally he manages to escape his new prison, only to find he is now inside a building (a first for him. He's not supposed to be in homes); a giant in red, a lady of feathers, the man of sand, and the rabbit-man are all staring at him (why? why him?)

He stumbles out of the bag quickly, if clumsily, and is immensely relieved to find his staff nearby (not above a flaming pit). The relief is short-lived, however, as dread settles in his stomach. Jack finally realizes where he is. This is Santa's workshop, the place he attempted to break into on a near-weekly basis back before...

But why is he here now? Have they found out? Is he in trouble? Certainly he is; he was doing something wrong. He shouldn't have wanted to touch Sandman's dreamsand. He shouldn't have wanted that pie; he shouldn't have tried to break in. Jack is on the Naughty list; he is sure because never once has he gotten a present for Christmas (not that he wants one. He doesn't, really). Something tickles Jack's memory. Something about coal. Are they going to stick him in embers? No, Jack doesn't want that, not at all. Still, a yeti is blocking the door and the others are between him and the windows, and everywhere noisy, little elves squirm about trying to see the newcomer, so Jack, despite not being tied up - not yet - is trapped. All he can do is stare at the big man's - who he now realizes is the Big Man himself - feet (Jack refuses to look into eyes, refuses to be trapped by twin sunsets).

"This is Jack Frost?" St. Nick exclaims questioningly, loudly, with a strong accent. Jack cringes away from the sound.

"Yah, 'M sure. This 's the bugger. Even wearin' the same clothes," comes the rabbit-man's scathing reply.

"Is nothing like how I imagined. From how you described him, Bunny, I expected cheeky little blue-skinned imp vith evil smile. Not - this," The way his feet shift indicate that he gestured toward Jack, but Jack still isn't willing to look up.

"Well, think what ya will. This is 'im, an' I still don' think 'es Guardian material," They're talking about him; Jack isn't sure what they're referring to, but they're involving him, and he wishes they would stop - or explain, but mostly he just wants them to let him go.

"Vell, is no matter. Hello Jack, I am Nicholas St. North. You know Bunny, obviously," Jack's eyes dart toward a pair of rabbit feet before coming back to their default position, "This is Tooth," Jack's vision is suddenly filled with a face covered with brilliant, beautiful plumage, but that's not what he notices.

"Hello Jack, I've heard a lot about you, especially your -" He notices eyes, eyes that are lit up in genuine pleasure to see him, and the fear that summons in him causes him to leap backwards nearly across the entire room without any aid from the wind. Where is the wind?

In front of him, three individuals stare, first at where he was, then at where he is, and back. Sandman, who was drinking a cup of eggnog, simply stares at Jack questioningly.

"Jack?" Tooth calls out uncertainly, worry evident in her tone, and for once (once again, and always) Jack wishes he could summon his voice. He doesn't like the hurt look in her eyes, and he wishes he could explain that it's not her he jumped away from; he simply doesn't like being seen, being touched. It hurts.

So he does the next best thing he can think of, he - slowly because he really doesn't want to - sidles back to his previous position and raises his eyes to actually look at her. Not her feet or that beautiful spot of wall behind her, but at her lavender eyes. It's not much, he thinks, but he hopes it's enough to let her know it's not her fault, and he's sorry for hurting her, even if he's not sure how. She stares back as if searching for something and Jack doesn't like that feeling of intrusiveness either, but he thinks he mustn't be selfish and look away, especially not now.

The unnatural silence lasts a few seconds longer before St. North loudly clears his throat, "Vell, I bet you are wondering vhy you are here, yes?" Jack gratefully reverts his eyes to the spot of floor between St. North's boots, "Well, I will tell you why you are here," he continues with more confidence, "Man in Moon said," Jack's head shoots up unintentionally at this. The Moon talks? To them? Then why has it never answered his pleas? "that you are Guardian, so Guardian you will be! Music!"

Cacophonous noise explodes throughout the room as little elves blow on obnoxious trumpets and yetis reluctantly grumble a little ditty, raising torches throughout the room. Jack panics.

Or rather, Jack has a full-blown panic attack as the sound pounds at his head and does the only thing he can think of: slam the butt-end of his staff to the floor, causing a wave of hoarfrost to radiate out from him, and as everyone stares at the display - ah, there's the wind, outside beating at the windows demanding to be let in - Jack takes the chance to run as if his life depends on it, out the door and into the maze of Santa's Workshop.

As he sprints around randomly, avoiding the desperate grabs of some of the working yetis and ignoring the calls from behind, Jack can still hear the wind's furious howls (how dare they steal it's frost child! How dare they!). Jack lunges over a large pile of freshly-painted red robots, causing several to break and issuing an anguished cry from a yeti, but he doesn't really notice any of that.

Jack glances behind him to see St. North and Tooth pursuing, he brings his vision back around, and halts in his tracks, breathing hard as he stares at Bunny in shock.

"Ya don' wanna race a rabbit mate," he explains before slowly coming closer. Jack turns around but St. North and Tooth are closing in quickly. Jack glances around, looking for some other route, but to his left is a wall and to his right is a drop that even Jack worries about falling down.

"Forget it, mate, ain't nowhere to run. Why are ya runnin'?" Bunny asks. Jack only glances at him before making up his mind. He takes a deep breath and jumps onto the bars, launching himself off them just as Bunny makes a grab at him.

Jack grabs a passing flying-turtle-toy, and for a terrifying second it dips under his weight, before picking itself back up and leading Jack away from the pursuers. As Jack pulls himself onto its back, he glances back to see Bunny gripping the rail, staring at him in shock. Then he catches a glimpse of emerald blue in the corner of his vision and hops off the turtle, latching onto a glowing ring spinning by. Tooth darts right through the spot he had been not a moment earlier. Wasting no time, Jack flings himself to the next ring and then onto an airplane shooting by.

The fairy turns around, relocating Jack and heading for him. He manages to dodge her next grab by gripping the plane's wing and flipping it - along with him - up-side-down. Unfortunately as it re-rights itself, Jack loses his grip and for a few terrifying moments Jack is free-falling until he gathers his wits and creates a block of ice under him, immediately kicking off it and creating another one to launch off of. Soon enough, for every stepping stone he creates, he hears one shatter far below him, but he doesn't stop to see any damage he might be causing because he still hears the flutter of wings behind him and she is steadily getting closer.

One last desperate lunge later and Jack is on solid ground, running yet again. Deciding it's too exposed here, Jack turns and slams open a door into an adjacent hallway. It's lined with doors, some open, most not, but he doesn't bother to go through them because Tooth is closing in.

"Jack please, calm down. We're not going to hurt you," She calls out, and Jack doesn't trust her, not one bit, but he is startled by just how close her voice is. The hallway is coming to an end and to Jack's horror, it is a dead end. Nowhere to turn except the way he came.

Resolutely narrowing his eyes, Jack puts in one last burst of speed, "Jack? Jack, what are you doing? You'll hurt yourself!" is exclaimed but he ignores the warning as the wall gets closer at daunting speeds.

He can hear the hurried buzzing of Tooth's wings and knows she'll never be able to stop in time. When he reaches the wall, he runs three steps up it and launches himself into a backflip over his flying pursuer. For a breathless second he is frozen in time - in air - and as he lands, Jack catches a glimpse of her face, slack in shock. Tooth's momentum pushes her forward until she slams into the wall.

Then he is running again, back the way he came, the sound of fluttering wings distinctly absent behind him. But the chase isn't over yet, as Bunny has caught up and yet again blocks Jack's path, feet apart and arms up in preparation to catch him.

No, Jack won't get caught now. Sending a small bolt of ice at the rabbit, Jack uses the momentary distraction to slide in between his legs. He is back up and sprinting before Bunny even realizes what just happened.

Now North is blocking his path, with two yetis behind him, so Jack detours to the left and shoves a door open. On the other side stretches another door-lined hallway, and Jack thinks it's no wonder he's never been able to get into the workshop before. This place is a maze!

Still, Jack isn't trying to break in this time; he's trying to break out, and the window at the end of the hall looks very promising. Jack is almost there, almost to freedom, when a small golden object steps out from behind a nearby desk, hovering just in front of the window and waving at Jack. Skidding to a stop, Jack stares at the Sandman, or more specifically, the weapon in his hand.

Never in his life would Jack have thought a snowball made of sand would look so absolutely terrifying.


	3. In Which Jack's Logic Isn't Sane

...Or In which Pitch's Voice, 'Nuff Said

Jack watches as if hypnotized as Sandman leisurely tosses the ball in the air and catches it once before chucking it at the frost child. More from reflex than any conscious thought, Jack brings up his staff, an impromptu bat, and takes a swing at the speeding ball...

And it turns out dreamsand is surprisingly bouncy. Jack ducks as the ball rebounds off the window just above Sandy's head and it just barely misses brushing Jack's hair before it hits something behind him.

A Yeti, Jack finds out as it collapses, asleep, on him. The child of frost tries with all his might to push the creature off, but it dwarfs Jack in both size and weight. Jack's staff, knocked from his hand from the impact, lies just out of reach, and Jack doesn't know what to do because the Sandman is floating right next to him and he can hear Bunny's hopping stride and Tooth's buzzing wings and the window is right there!

Now Jack realizes that he's having trouble breathing. The Yeti's too heavy and it's crushing him, and he can't move, and they're coming, and he can't breathe, and for once (once again and always) he wishes he can talk so he could ask for help, and the exit's right there!

The weight on him lessens, and then is removed entirely, and Jack scrabbles for his staff as St. North grunts, setting down the huge mass of fur. In the space of three gulped breaths, Jack is trapped again, Bunny to his left, Tooth to his right, St. North in front and Sandman blocking the window. No, Jack won't let himself be caught again! There must be a way out. Everyone is keeping their distance, but it's probably more from the threatening nature of Jack's crackling staff than any respect for his wishes. Jack isn't hoping that he might find some miraculous escape (Jack has learned how pointless hope is) but he suspects he's missing something. Something important.

If only hot air wasn't blowing down on him, then he'd be able to think better.

Jack tenses as the thought occurs to him. He remembers something vaguely about this, about how humans cut holes in their walls that somehow project hot air. Jack remembers because suddenly, with a warm place to go home to, families found winter far less scary and considerably more fun. Jack found many now playmates (even if they didn't know they were playing with him) that year.

But that is beside the point. St. North has one of these Heat-er things, and that means a hole is directly above Jack. If only he could destroy the covering and climb up it fast enough, but he doesn't think that's possible, not with how close everyone is; not unless some sudden distraction were to occur, and Jack knows better than to hope.

Yet, despite his lack of hope, his miraculous distraction comes in the form of Tooth collapsing to the floor muttering about her, "fairies," and though Jack doesn't get what the problem is, he knows this is his only chance as everyone (sans the Sandman who is still guarding the window, but looking her way worriedly) crowds their fallen accomplice. Jack takes the opportunity to blast open the grill above him and hop into the small opening. He hears Bunny shout after him, but he isn't worried.

The passageway is small, and if Jack was of even a slightly larger build he'd never be able to fit, so he's confident that no one will be able to follow him. The thought makes him feel more calm than he has all day, and he wishes he could stay in the crawlspace for just for a bit longer, but It's hot here, so Jack knows he needs to get moving quickly.

Thus, awkwardly dragging his staff along, Jack manages a hobbling crawl deeper into the shaft. It's dark, but the occasional grate allows in little slips of light. The first few times he checks, the grates all lead to rooms with at least one occupant, so he moves on getting ever warmer until, finally, the fifth grate opens into an empty room.

He kicks it out before falling down, landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor. He cut that close, the heat was beginning to get disorienting. Warmth wouldn't kill him, he knew from experience, but it would drain him of energy until he could no longer move, left to wait for a cool draft to come in or the Wind to sweep him away, and Jack doesn't think he wants to be trapped in a Heat-er forever.

...Jack has been not-wanting a lot today. He wonders if perhaps that is just as bad as wanting, or if it is more like wanting-naught.

Jack doesn't get the chance to ponder as the door to his room begins to open. He frantically looks around for a place to hide, but the room is nearly barren, save for a couple closed crates, small bales of hay, and a line of chutes attached to the wall. Wasting no time, Jack throws his staff in and promptly hops down one of the several openings and finds himself on a near vertical slide down, down, down into darkness.

Until a dim flash of light appears in the distance, quickly growing until Jack suddenly finds himself out of the tunnel and in a considerably larger heap of hay. All around him are empty corrals made of a dark, reinforced wood. In front of him is a large mass. It's hard to see in the dim lighting, but he thinks it might be St. North's famous sleigh. Jack ducks his head back into the bale just as a near frantic Yeti grumbles and marches up to the magical apparatus.

Horror dawns on Jack when he realizes his staff is nowhere in sight. Hay-strewn head popping up, Jack notices an out-of-place, lanky shadow seemingly attached to the back of the sleigh, and he knows instinctively that that is it. Taking a cautious glance to make sure no one can see him, Jack creeps up to his object, and gives the staff a tug, only to find it won't come apart. Jack wonders - not for the first time - if he'd at some point incurred some wrath of Fate or one of the human's divine beings because the knob of Jack's staff has somehow wedged itself into a decorative hole and the crook has threaded itself into the design on the sleigh's backboard.

Jack tugs on the staff again, and as if that is the trigger, large doors on the opposite end of the room open. The sleigh jerks forward, tugging Jack along with it.

He isn't sure what's going on until he hears Bunny's uncertain voice, "Uh, I think my tunnels might be faster, mate. And safer,"

With all due haste, Jack presses himself against the back of the vehicle, desiring with all of his being the he won't be caught (as they seem to have not noticed him yet) but not willing to part with his staff.

"Ha ha, get in, and buckle up," Jack hears St. North exclaim, and the sleigh begins to shift forward, quickly gaining speed. Jack can hear the Yeti from earlier gibbering in his language, and though Jack has no idea what he's saying, the tone of voice is worrying, to say the least. The panicked garbled stops, replaced with shock, as it notices the sleigh's unwilling hitch-hiker. Jack quickly pulls up his hood to avoid the gaze.

"Woah, woah, where are the bloody seat-belts?" Bunny asks, panic coloring his voice.

"Hah! Was just expression!"

Jack doesn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation as suddenly he's gripping his staff with both hands and sliding along ice-slick floors in adrenaline-inducing speeds. The sleigh shifts to avoid oncoming stalagmites and suddenly Jack is up-side-down, feet trying to maintain their contact with the slick roof.

"I hope you like the loop-de-loops!" Jack manages to hear over the wind and the sound of laughing. Who's laughing? He doesn't recognize the voice, yet it sounds so familiar. Is someone else on the sleigh? Jack doesn't think so, only St. North, Bunny, possibly Sandman and Tooth and...

The jubilant noise abruptly stops as Jack realizes it's his laugh. Something he hasn't heard in over a century; something he thought he'd never hear again. Has his voice come back to him? He gives an experimental shout.

But nothing comes out. It's gone again, left with the cave as they all take to the air (the Wind, finally reunited with its frost child, asking what kind of game Jack is playing) and Jack forces down the disappointment because it's not as if he really wants his voice or something ridiculous like that. In his concentration, Jack barely notices the gut-wrenching feeling of going through a portal.

He does, however, notices the sudden and extreme rise in temperature. He can't see much (most of his view being dominated by the red of the magical carriage in front of him) but what he does see is enough to let him know he's never been here before, and that this place is in chaos; everywhere black steeds are chasing little, flying specks of green. The sleigh is jostled as they crash into one of the many spires that compose the palace (because surely there is no other way to describe this structure) and the impact causes Jack's staff to come loose, allowing him freedom. Finally.

Except, Jack remembers just as he finishes freeing his staff and starts to fall, his Wind didn't go through the portal with them and probably has no idea where Jack is right now. It'll find him soon enough, but until then...

Lips part in a silent, unnoticed scream as gravity finally gets its revenge on Jack for defying it all these centuries. He will fall, and it will hurt, and whether not-wanting is bad or not, Jack doesn't want to be in pain. Jack lands much earlier than he expects, hurts much less than he thought, and the thing that caught him whinnies angrily.

Fumbling for his breath and a better position, Jack finds himself sitting on one of the many black horses flying throughout the sky, and his newfound proximity allows him to see details that he didn't notice before. Like, how its ribcage is an actual cage. With something in it.

The mare bucks, trying to send Jack off, but the Wind plays much rougher, so Jack doesn't have to concentrate very hard to hang on. Instead he focusses his attention on the little fairy buzzing frantically in the cage. It reminds him of Tooth, with the green feathers and faintly humanoid body, but much smaller. Like a baby, a little Baby Tooth.

She stops her frantic search for an escape and stares at Jack with wide, scared, extremely hopeful eyes, and an electric current runs through him. Nobody, no one has ever looked at him with hope. Yet Jack knows just how pointless hope is, and Jack knows that he is not a prince come to save the damsel because he has nothing to do with fairytales. So, logically, he can't possibly help her.

Despite that, he also knows that babies do not belong in cages; they belong in their mother's arms - loved and cherished. So, despite the improbability of it all, Jack thinks he can maybe - just once - take part in this fairytale and save her.

The horse rears up just as Jack slams his hand on its spine and shatters it with the bite of ice. The rest of the mare collapses into dust while he cups the little, grateful-looking (grateful? To him?) Baby Tooth gently in his hands. Though, now he is free-falling yet again. Jack stares at the quickly approaching ground in resignation. The fall won't kill him, he knows from experience, but it will probably leave him incapacitated for a while, and continual exposure to the heat here will leave him stranded for much longer.

Little Baby Tooth chirps at him frantically, and he considers letting her go, but no: there are more of those black horse things flying around and he won't risk her getting caught again.

He's close enough to count the pebbles when the wind finally finds him and sweeps him into its embrace. Baby Tooth squeaks weekly in relief (even though Jack knows he would have taken the total impact - babies are fragile after all) and even Jack feels a little light-headed from his near brush with, not death - nothing so pleasant as death - but immense pain.

(Are we playing hide-and-seek, frost child? You are very good at it today) The wind asks him. Jack doesn't have time to answer it as more of those horses are coming after him - whether to get the fairy in his hand to get revenge for their fallen comrade he does not know.

The wind doesn't care that he hasn't answered though because it is simply glad to once again be able carry its frost child after all the time they were apart and it was enjoying this little game of tag they were playing and Jack wouldn't believe all the rumors and laughs and frustrated screams it has picked up while the frost child was gone!

Jack swings his staff again, shattering the last of the beasts chasing after him. None of their cages held anymore fairies; those ones had already left. (and when one human slapped the other, the sound was singular!) All the mares were leaving, as if on command. Admittedly curious about this palace, and intending to return his temporary charge to her rightful family, Jack heads toward the quartet's general direction. (And Easter Bunny has a long running unpleasant history with kangaroos. They are, apparently his worst nemesis, how bizarre even for you emotional creatures!) Jack heads forward, only half listening to the Wind, knowing it wouldn't stop its monologue until it had told him everything it heard, and the Wind hears a lot in mere minutes.

Jack arrives, except there's a fifth person there - all black and grey like the horses - and Jack doesn't want to interrupt their conversation, so he lands a ways away, on a lower perch, and puts Baby Tooth in his pocket (because Jack is as cold as winter and he knows that winter chill can kill).

(So Nature continues to mourn for her-)

"And who is this?" A smooth, dark voice sounds behind Jack, leaving even the Wind silent in its wake.

"Frostbite? When did 'e get 'ere?" Bunny asks incredulously from behind, as Jack stares at the robe-covered shoes of the black-robed man before him.

"I remember you, Frost child, such delicious fear you had - still have," Did this man just silence the Wind? "but what are you doing here?" This man silenced the Wind! "Surely you're not working with the Guardians now?" How dare this man silence Jack's only friend, "After all your dashed hopes and dreams?" the Wind was the only one who spoke to Jack, and for him when he no longer could! " And don't forget: you and I both know just how incredibly useless you-"

The man is interrupted by a snowball to the face, and the slow dripping of melting snow echoes in the unnatural silence that follows. Jack glares into the shocked face of the man who had no right to do what he did - silencing the Wind! - pulling his arm back to his side.

The man, slowly, disbelievingly wipes the snow off his head and shoulders before shooting Jack a look of fury, " You've thrown your lot in with them? Fine, but don't come begging as you fade out of existence,"

Jack's anger is momentarily forgotten as he stares at the man in confusion. All around him, the structure begins to quake and dissolve, but he barely notices while he grasps the meaning behind that statement.

"What? You mean they didn't tell you?" The man of grey fades into a shadow and reappears several yards above everyone, "Being a guardian is great," He yells, unnecessarily loud, in Jack's still angered opinion, "but there's a catch. When enough kids stop believing, everything your friends protect - wonder, hopes, and dreams - it all goes away, and little-by-little so do they," The man disappears for good, leaving Jack to contemplate his parting words. Jack can die? Simply by joining these people, Jack can finally, truly die? It almost sounds too good to be true.

"Y-you threw a snowball. At Pitch Black!" Bunny exclaims from right behind Jack, jerking him out of his musings. Jack spins to stare at the rabbit. Why did he sound so shocked? The man - Pitch Black - had no right to go on talking after he so unashamedly muted the Wind.

Wind!

Jack silently begs for the Wind to speak up, hoping whatever the man did wasn't permanent. For a minute all was silent and Jack barely notices the confused look on Bunny's face as he continues the ultimately useless task of looking for the un-body of his friend.

Then suddenly the Wind is howling all around him.

(THAT VOICE! I could listen to that voice for all eternity!)

Jack smiles slightly as the wind twirls about him excitedly going on about the voice which it has apparently fallen in love with at first sound, or as "in love" as an entity such as the Wind is able.

A violent tremor runs through the building and St. North shouts above the gale, "Ve need to get to safer ground!"

"Right!" Bunny responds. He then turns to Jack and yells, "Frostbite! Turn off your bloody wind!"

Jack scowls and throws a snowball at the rabbit as well because people need to stop being rude about his friend - the Wind is not some object to be switched on and off - but he also requests that the Wind calm down if only to slow the destruction of this palace. It obliges, but not without the occasional gust of a sigh.

"Wh-what was that for?" Bunny sputters indignantly. Jack just scowls back.

Then he realizes he's looking at Bunny's face.

Horrified, Jack's gaze darts back to its rightful spot on the ground and he pulls up his hood, hopping away from Bunny and following St. North at a safe distance. He can't believe he let himself do something so dangerous. He needs to be more careful from now on.

* * *

(Okay, The Wind is officially a character. And the Wind talks... a lot. All the time, in fact, unless otherwise mentioned. Jack usually just tunes it out so it's generally not mentioned in the story unless something happens, such as in this chapter.)


	4. In Which Jack Reunites Family

_(Okay, so I forgot to mention this the first three chapters because it was early and I was tired, but this is my ongoing fill for a prompt on the rotg Kink meme. The prompt is basically that Jack as broken after years of Isolation and the guardians find themselves trying to fix a spirit who is emotionally shattered._

_If you'd like to see the original prompt, just copy and paste this into the address bar {and take out the spaces and reinsert periods and what-not}_

_ dot org/ 2200 dot html? thread= 3235224)_

* * *

...Or In Which The Guardians Get A Clue

The five spirits find themselves by a crystalline pool near where Jack almost crashed into the ground earlier. A beautiful, stylized mural depicts Tooth smiling toward a group of children. Jack finds his spot in the branches of a nearby pink-blossomed tree while St. North takes a seat on a boulder, Sandy floats - as per usual - on a cloud of dreamsand, and Bunny paces furiously.

Tooth slowly flutters to the floor, "He took my fairies, a-and the teeth. Everything is gone. Everything," She says in a broken voice, then glares at air, the fierce pride of a mother breaking through, "But you should have seen them, they fought so hard," and Jack remembers why he followed them in the first place.

Hopping down, the winter sprite gently cups Baby Tooth in his hands and walks up to Tooth. Even without seeing, Jack can feel everyone's questioning stares like needles, and it makes his movements faltering, but he can't stop now.

Managing the last three steps, Jack holds out his hands as if in offering and slowly unclasps them. Baby Tooth instantly flies out and around her mama's head, all the while making happy little chittering sounds.

"Oh thank goodness, one of you is alright," Tooth coos in a loving voice. A beat later, Jack turns to hop back in the tree but is stopped by a surprisingly strong grip on his wrist. He freezes. (_if he opens his eyes, will he see twin sunsets?_)

"You saved her," Tooth says with shock and gratitude (_no, it can't be, not for him_) in her voice, "Thank you,"

Startled, Jack turns to face his captor, and for a split second he does see two scorching orbs of twilight, but they are quickly dissolved by emotional vibrant, purple eyes. He frantically shakes his head. This isn't something she should be thanking him for. This is just one of those things. One of those Laws: the prince always saves the princess, the older brother always protects his little sister, and families aways belong in each-other's loving embrace. He gently tugs his arm back, thankful that she releases him, and turns to fly off.

This time, he is stopped by a furry paw on his shoulder. The touch makes him recoil, but it stays strong, keeping him in place.

"Oh, no ya don't. You're gonna stay right 'ere and tell us just what Pitch was talkin' about,"

Jack wonders what Bunny's means. The details of Mr. Black's little speech were lost in the haze of Jack's internal screaming, but from what he does remember, it was pretty straightforward. Jack knows about the pointlessness of hope, knows that dreams are not for him, and he especially knows how useless he is. These are all things he's established long ago. Surely the Guardians knew this too (_why else would he be alone, abandoned for so so long?_), and if they didn't, they must have figured it out by now. The bigger problem, however, is that Bunny and the rest seem to expect an answer and he won't let go until they get one. Jack isn't sure how to tell him any of this. Isn't sure how to tell anyone anything with no voice. So Jack shrugs with one shoulder because Bunny is still holding the other one in place. It's a good enough answer, the best he can give anyway.

Except, apparently Bunny doesn't think so, as he spins Jack around. Now Jack is forced to try and find comfort in staring at furry feet as Bunny speaks to the top of his hood, "No, that's enough of your poutin'. Just tell us what's wrong, mate!"

Jack wants to. He wants to rage and shout, '_Stop staring at me!_' he would have said, if he could, '_Why?_' he would have screamed, '_Why do you care now? You're the one that told me to shut up in the first place! You never saved me! You never let me explain! Why care? Why Now?_'

It's only as his teeth snap together with audible force that Jack realizes he's been miming a mockery of his speech, that he's dragged his gaze up from the floor to what is presumably Bunny's face. It's hard to tell though because his vision has gone blurry. He can feel the tell-tale burning behind his eyes that signals he's about to cry, and Jack digs his nails into his staff - small stabbing pains wrench through his spine - to remind himself not to. He won't cry now - not anymore; crying never solves anything.

He still can't see quite clearly, but Jack can feel that the hold on his shoulder has gone slack. He doesn't move. He feels an irrational desire to see how Bunny will react. Seconds pass during which Jack manages to pull himself together, manages to realize he's let himself slip - to realize he's being selfish again. He knows because he feels disappointment welling up inside, though he's not sure what he's disappointed of. He shifts to head back his tree, but the grip tightens in response.

"Ya- ya can't talk?"

Jack shakes his head, waiting for the moment Bunny lets him go. Why didn't he leave when he had the chance? Chances are, Bunny won't release him until all the rabbit's questions are answered. Jack resigns himself to getting this over with.

"Ya've never been able ta talk?" Bunny strangled voice comes out. He sounds almost confused by this; though for the life of him, Jack can't figure out why.

Jack's first reaction is to shake his head no because he hasn't always been unable to talk. Then he pauses and nods his head yes: he was able to talk once. He thinks. Maybe. Though sometimes he wonder if having a voice was merely a cruel dream of his. He reverts back to shaking his head. He never spoke before, more than likely. Getting dizzy, Jack forces himself to stop, give a silent sigh, and shrug. He doesn't know. Why does it matter anyway?

"Ya don't know?" Bunny tries to interpret.

"You don't remember?" Tooth interrupts, and Jack turns his attention to the fairy's fluttering wings. Remember? Of course Jack remembers. He just doesn't know if what he remembers is real. Did she think he somehow lost his memories? How did she get to that conclusion? "That's it, isn't it? You've lost your memory. Poor child. If only Pitch hadn't stolen all the teeth, you could get your memories back,"

"Hah, so that is problem. Worry not, Ve shall get fairies and memory back from Pitch," St. North shouts out from behind, "before you can say покрасить в красный цвет!" The tone of his voice sounds like it's meant to be encouraging, but Jack can't help but think that it will be a very long time before he says anything, much less whatever St. North just exclaimed. At any rate, that isn't the problem. Jack isn't sure how Pitch stole memories and how teeth are involved in this at all, but it's all irrelevant. He doesn't need his memories. In fact, he has plenty of memories - real or not - that he'd rather do without.

...Are they claiming the want to help him, regardless of how misguided they are?

No, surely not. No one would help Jack Frost. He need to stop getting his hopes up. It leads only to disappointment.

Tooth gasps, and for the first time, Jack can clearly see her wings as they stop moving, "The children," She half-whispers, half-whimpers out, "It's too late," As she slowly flitters to the floor, Jack can't help but think, as he picks out the fine details of the dirt beneath his feet, that this is his fault. If they weren't so focussed on him, they could have done something. He shouldn't have stepped out from the tree. Why did he? He could have released Baby Tooth from up there just as easily. Easier, even. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Now they're in trouble and it's all his fault.

"NO!" St. North yells, startling Jack out of his thoughts. For a minute, Jack thinks the red man is rebuffing him, but then St. North continues his speech, "No. No such thing as 'too late.' Think, think," Jack catches the sheen of a scimitar from the corner of his eye while the man paces, "Ah, wait. Wait, wait, wait wait, wait! Idea!" St. North swings his twin swords, nearly nicking Bunny and forcing him to release Jack, who takes his chance to hop back into the cover of the tree, "Ve, shall collect teeth!"

"What?" Tooth exclaims, throwing her arms out in disbelief.

"Ve get teeth. Children keep believing - in you!"

"We're talking seven continents, millions of children-"

"Give me break. Do you know how many toys I deliver in one night-"

"And eggs I hide in one day?" Bunny finishes, confidence plain on his face. Sandy for his part simply gives an encouraging thumbs up while Tooth laughs in delight.

"And Jack," North says, turning toward the tree, "If you help us, we will get your memories,"

Jack still doesn't see the point of memories (_all he would remember is cold, dark, and fear or hot, dark, and pain_) but if he helps them, he might be able to convince them to let him become one of them. Decision made, Jack hops back down from the shelter of the tree and nods.

* * *

_Kay, so, the Russian North says theoretically means paint it red. I don't speak Russian, though, so if that's wrong, I'm sorry._

_Also, thanks you guys for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. I can't believe I have so many already. I'll try to update fairly regularly._


	5. In Which Jack Makes A Discovery

_*weeps tears of joy* you guys! You guys are all so amazingly awesome! Here's another Chapter for you!_

* * *

**...Or In Which Alarm Clocks Are, Without A Shadow Of A Doubt, Evil**

Under the guidance of Baby Tooth, Jack quickly flies toward his next target. Arriving at the child's window, Baby Tooth simply flies through as if it was simply air, Jack takes a moment longer to pick the lock and open it. A little girl rests peacefully on her bed, golden dreamsand flying above her head. Jack doesn't take time to admire the scene as he reaches under her pillow to grab the tooth that will inevitably be under it. Upon finding it, Jack withdraws his hand and places the object in a red sack full of similar gleaming white bones.

Satisfied, Jack turns to leave but is stopped by a chirping Baby Tooth. She points back at the pillow and it takes Jack the space of one breath to realize what he forgot. Embarrassed, Jack turns and slides a quarter under the girl's pillow. Baby Tooth chirps happily and starts heading toward the next destination, Jack following close behind. While in the air, Jack pulls the hood lower over his face. He can't believe he almost forgot something so important! No one else would have, he was sure, and the Guardians would be so disappointed if they found out. He really is useless. In another window. Take a tooth. Leave a coin. Head toward next destination. Jack thinks it's a good thing he split up from the group, letting Baby Tooth guide him from house to house up in Asia while the others took care of Europe. He wouldn't want them to see how much of a screw-up he is, and also, it is nice just being alone again, away from all the stares and touches and frenetic energy that always came with others. He hadn't noticed it before, but all of that - that chaos was driving him up a wall. Now that he is alone again - or, almost alone, he reminds himself when Baby Tooth chirps impatiently at him - he finally feels comfortable. Honestly, how can anyone stand to be in the presence on others so constantly?

Well, Jack thinks as he swipes yet another tooth, Baby Tooth isn't so bad, probably because she strikes him as a little girl - a little sister, and little sisters should always be protected. It also helps that she doesn't stare at him for long periods of time, try to grab him when he takes off, or interrogate him about pointless things. The Wind's there too, but that's a given and Jack wouldn't have it any other way.

Caught up in his contemplations, Jack doesn't notice when they finish up in their designated areas and start to head toward the Americas. He does realize when they wind up back in Burgess, and Jack momentarily panics, thinking someone plans to stuff him in a sack again. But that never happens, and Jack breathes out a sigh of relief as he passes the alley where he saw Bunny. Baby Tooth flies through a window, this one already open, and Jack flies through, intending to grab another tooth but freezes when he sees all the Guardians gathered in the room.

"Glad ya decided ta show up, mate," Comes Bunny's distinctive voice, and Jack wonders if he was too slow. Perhaps they were testing him, and he just failed.

"Do you have the teeth?" Tooth asks, suddenly appearing in front of his face again. He wishes she would stop doing that, then shoves the thought from his mind (wanting his bad). Jack nods and holds his sack out, "Oh, wonderful! Look at all these!"

Bunny snorts, "I got more,"

"Oh hush, at least Jack remembered to leave gifts unlike a certain group of guys I know... You did remember to leave gifts, right?" She asks Jack uncertainly, and he nods emphatically in reply. He feels bad for lying - and scared they'll find out - but he was already doing poorly on this test and can't afford to sink lower into the red.

"You're... the Easter Bunny! And Santa Claus, The Sandman. And the Toothfairy! I knew you'd come!" A boy yells out, shining a flashlight in each of their eyes. Jack isn't surprised when the light passes right over him - right through him - like he isn't there. He's not disappointed either because he knows he's invisible, nonexistent. He's not disappointed. Not at all. Really. Even if he can't hold back the cringe the next time the boy's wonderstruck eyes pass him unseeingly.

"S-surprise! We came!" Tooth calls out, awkwardly. Jack notices the rest of the Guardians have gone stiff as well, as if being seen is a bad thing. Well, for all he knows, it could be. At least, every time Jack has been seen, it's only brought him suffering. But he can't see what would be so bad about being seen by a kid. It's all he ever really wanted...

No it isn't. Jack doesn't want that. He doesn't want anything. Wanting is bad. Wanting is selfish and only brings pain. Want-not. Want-not. Want-not.

He hopes they let him be a guardian soon, it's getting harder to want-not and so he needs to be-not as quickly as possible.

Jack doesn't realize he's moving - nobody realizes he's moving, their eyes trained on the kid - his hands holding his head together, until he steps on the a dog's paw. The greyhound immediately leaps up and jumps on Jack, pushing him down and growling angrily into his face (see? Being seen brings trouble. Why would Jack want to be seen?) until it sees the more threatening-looking intruders and hops off, aiming its teeth at Bunny.

"No, stop! That's the Easter Bunny!" The boy yells, though Jack can't see what's going on from his vantage point on the ground by the child's bed.

"Bunny! Be careful!" Tooth yells, and Jack can see the frantic beating of her wings.

"Relax, sheila. I doubt 'e's ever tried ta fight a bunny like me. Seven feet tall, master of Tai-chi-" Jack chooses this moment to attempt to get up, knocking against an alarm clock in the process. The resulting chaos causes Jack to fall back to the floor, scurry under the child's bed and cower there.

The alarm rings throughout the room, mockingly loud. The dog growls and Bunny shouts in panic, yelling at the Sandman to do something. Jack sees large, frantic, furry feet as Bunny hops around the room, and then smaller, furry paws as the dog follows, barking and growling rabidly. The telltale hum of Tooth's wings stop as she collapses to the floor, Baby Tooth by her, bot out-cold, followed quickly by a yelp from the dog and then Bunny crashes against the bed, also unconscious, his arm almost touching Jack. Jack curls into himself further.

The bed above him suddenly sinks down as St. North exclaims, "Candy canes," and the boy shouts in excitement, before, finally everything falls silent.

...Whoops.

Jack doesn't move at first, not until he is sure that everything has settled down, and even then he has to steady his breathing before he crawls out, inching past Bunny. When he finally stands up to take in the scene, he sees that everyone is sleeping, the Sandman's sand doing little dances above their heads. Sandman himself is nowhere in sight.

A little blonde girl, probably the boy's little sister, stumbles into the room. She's barely old enough to talk, merely exclaiming things like, "Pretty! Bunny! hop hop hop," When she stumbles over a globe, Jack's first instinct is to catch her, and his mind, still processing what just happened in the room, doesn't think to question it until it's too late. He's already in position, and the child is falling, and he won't be able to catch her because she'll fall right through him. He remembers, all to clearly from numerous experiences, the pain, like being shredded into a million little pieces and then being taped back together again, and momentarily losing all trace of joy, happiness, hope leaving only despair. Despair and anger and hopelessness. In those moments, Jack truly experiences a desire to simply perish, making his everyday self seem flippant and happy in comparison. Thankfully, it truly only lasts a moment, for in the next the feeling is - well not gone, never really gone - but dulled enough that he won't immediately head toward the nearest cliff or skyscraper and fling himself off it. Well, not anymore anyway... It's not like it ever worked at any rate...

He watches in horror as she falls seemingly in slow-motion. He braces for that moment of agony. He flinches when she reaches his arms.

But she does not pass through.

She's caught, safely, in outstretched arms, blinking and then smiling up at him, "Oopsie," She then notices the portal that activated when she tripped over the snow-globe, exclaiming, "pretty!" and going through it without hesitation, giving Jack's already overloaded mind no time to process the event.

She saw him.

She. Saw. Him.

She saw him?

Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! No this couldn't be happening now! Not when he was so close to achieving his goal!

Jack followed after her, managing to fling himself through the portal just as it was closing.

When he arrives at the other side. Jack can't help but gasp. All around him is green. Green and life. He's never seen this much green before. His world is white. The white of snow-covered fields, the white of frosted-over, bare trees, the white of frost-covered windows that he'd always tried to peer through.

But now everything is green, with spots of color everywhere. Flowers bloom in abundance, little eggs with feet wander about, and a rainbow river flows freely throughout the fields. This is the Life and Spring and Summer that Jack always hears so much about whenever kids get tired of his snow (_as they always do, for he is troublesome and unwanted_) and wish for "Summer Vacation" and "pool parties.

It's beautiful.

"Funny!" comes a childish giggle and Jack's mind shifts from one major life-changing revelation to the other as he targets the little girl chasing down one of the wobbly eggs. Did she really see him? He doesn't know what he'd do if it was just his imagination...

Tentatively he follows her as she plays, not willing to shatter the illusion that she'd seen him by calling out to unhearing ears. She gathers up a few eggs and then drops them and chases after them again in her little game of tag. Jack can feel a small, fond smile come to his face as she immerses herself in the game. Children are meant to play and be carefree, little sisters especially.

She catches the eggs again, letting go of all of them except one. This one she keeps cradled to her chest as she heads over in Jack's direction, and Jack stands at full attention in response to her actions. Stopping just in front of him (_no no no it can't be_) she holds out her egg (_is this really happening?_) and says, "You play too,"

Jack takes the egg, and her hand and though he swore to himself he'd never cry again, he finds tears slipping from his eyes, their tracks painting his face with swirls of frost as he would usual paint windows or trees.

He collapses to his knees and draws the girl into an embrace. His every nerve is on fire with the knowledge that he can touch her That she can touch him. That she is real, and that he, consequently must be real too.

As if sensing he needs it, the child hugs him back, then she pulls away, "Let's play. Let's play!"

Jack wipes away the frost tracks on his face, only to have them be replaced by his still freely falling tears. He isn't smiling even though he feel he should be. He can't bring himself to smile, or do anything in the face of the raging storm going through him except nod and let her pull him toward their next game, hand-in-hand.

* * *

_Yay! okay so some things to point out/headcanon fun stuff:_

_1. Jamie's dog. It can see Bunny in the movie. So I presume that it can see all spirits, including Jack. If Jamie's dog can see Jack, all animals can see Jack. Yay! Jack can interact with animals! Doesn't necessarily mean they're nice to him though..._

_2. Sophie. Yeah, that one plot hole in the movie that bugs everyone. So, as much as I love Jaimie, Sophie is Jack's first believer in this story. Plus she's cute and adorable and needs some lovin._

_Alright, so fun stuff._

_Thanks everyone who favorited/followed this story. You brought a smile to my face on a day when I really, really needed it._

_Review time!_

_**Guest**__: Here's your update! Hope you like it. By the way, I'll try to keep updates fairl regular, but I'm not sure how well that'll work out._

_**Alaia Skyhawk**__: ya know? When I started writing this, I had no what to expect with it either, still kind of don't. I'm glad you like it. And about Pitch and the pounding of certain other sadistic spirits... well I'd hate to give anything away... but since I love badass!Guardians, yeah, ya might want to expect some pownage._

_Meanwhile, I'll just be squealing in a corner because Eep! The writer of Secret of Frost And Moon likes my story!_

_**Midnight Lupus**__: Thanks! I'm glad depressed Jack is fun to read because he's fun to write_

_**Taranodongirl1**__: Yep, tension. Although, this story won't just be tension. It'll go through a veritable (yet mostly depressed) rainbow of feelings. Don't worry, happiness is a fleeting thing and is easily squashed (because I am an evil author)... Wow... that's not maniacal and evil at all. Run Jack, Run! Also, here's the update! hope you like it!_

_**Guest**__: Well, guest, I'm glad you're really liking this story, as I am liking writing it. Here's more, hope it's soon enough._

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: Wow! A review for every chapter? You. Are. Awesome. I can't technically take credit for the idea of this story. It was an amazing prompt from the rotg kink meme, but thank you for enjoying how I've decided to fill it all the same. Oh, and look! A shiny new chapter! Hope it's up to par._

_**AyameKitsune**__: Why, yes! Yes, I am awesome! Thank you for noticing. Cough, inflated ego aside, yeah, I decided considering the length this might end up being, it'd be better if I had something to keep the chapters separate ad in order. Thus Fanfiction. _

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Thanks for the compliment ^^ and you're awesome for reviewing!_

_**AnimeHuntress**__: Here's your update! Oh noes, if I keep getting all these awesome compliments, I'm going to have to work on updating faster! Thank you for your review. It made me smile._

_**Em**__: Well, don't worry. The Guardians might eventually catch on.. And the mystery dude... well, don't worry, he'll be expanded on later. You'll just have to wait and see who he is. Bwa ha ha!_

_**LadyPsycho 16**__: Oh. Oh! Thank you for your enthusiasm, it is better than Bunny's chocolate (don't tell him I said that though). Thankfully, I have a couple buffer chapters, so updates will be regular and fairly frequent for a few chapters yet._

_**TDBrigit**__: Oh no! Don't cry. Shh, it's okay. Look, look, see? Jack has a believer now, so everything will be alright... . . maybe._

_**Emoemo**__: Here's the update. What happens next? Well, Jack gets a believer! After that? Well, we'll see..._

_**Utasaki N**__: Eek! Another person in tears? It's okay, here have some imaginary chocolate. Yaoi - yaoi's always good. Unfortunately I can't write that if my life depended on it, so I'm glad you like my non-yaoi story. Hope you continue to like it as we ride Jack's roller coaster of emotions._

_**FrostFan**__: Yeah, nobody really knows who he is, which is kind of how I meant it. At first sunset dude was just gonna remain a mystery man, but then we couldn't have any righteous revenge so... well, the reader's will find out who he is eventually._

_Wow, that can get lengthy fast! Love you all! see you next chapter!_


	6. In Which Jack Has Some Bonding Moments

_Normally, I'd update tomorrow morning, but tomorrow's Thursday, and thus I can't really do anything tomorrow, so, early chapter! Yay!_

_What is that I see? Is that Jack smiling? What? Naw, it can't be... I'm not that nice..._

* * *

**... Or In Which Everything Is (Finally) Going Right... Until...**

Jack holds his staff out defensively against the Guardians - or three of them anyway, Sandman is nowhere to be seen - who were, until a moment ago, charging toward him with their weapons drawn.

"Jack?" Tooth asks confusedly as she relaxes her pose. The others shortly follow, but Jack keeps his defense up, just in case.

"What are ya doin' 'ere, mate?" Bunny asks, just as Sophie squeals and runs out from behind Jack.

"Elf! Elf! Elf!" She screams.

"W-What is she doin' here?" Bunny asks, something of panic coloring his voice. Since Jack is too busy keeping an eye on Sophie, he doesn't see St. North frantically search his coat pockets.

"Ah, Snow globe," The man in red supplies sheepishly for explanation. Jack nods absently in confirmation. Sophie, meanwhile, is having the time of her life dragging around one of North's elves. She giggles innocently.

"Crikey, somebody do something!" Bunny exclaims, and Jack cannot figure out why he's panicking. Surely one child can't be any harm, they have, after all, been here for quite a while without damaging anything.

"Don't worry Bunny," Tooth soothes while flying to the toddler and pointing out her fake fairy wings, "I bet she's a fairy fan,"

Tooth flies up to Sophie, slightly hesitant at first, but more confident after the girls exclamation of "Pretty!" All thoughts of the elf scurrying away forgotten.

Confidence bolstered, Tooth pulls out - to Jack's mild horror - a handful of bloody teeth and shows them to the girl, cooing over how they're covered in blood and gum. Sophie manages to last two seconds before she breaks into panicked tears - Jack is, frankly, proud of her.

With one scolding look sent toward the guardians, Jack bends down and scoops Sophie up, petting her hair and conjuring snowflakes to cheer her back up. It isn't long before she's laughing again, and Jack sets her back down to chase after an errant snowflake. It flips and floats and dodges her hands until Jack accidentally sends it into Bunny's nose. Instead of giving an irritated chiding, like Jack expects, Bunny suddenly seems extremely joyful and carefree.

How Bizarre.

He bends down toward Sophie asking, "How would ya like ta paint some eggs?" An excited squeal is his only reply but it seems to be enough, as suddenly the fields are alive with movement and activity. Jack panics and flies atop an egg shaped stone, only to flinch and almost slip off it when it begins to move.

While touring on the statues back, Jack watches in horrified fascination as an army - a very, very large army - of eggs starts marching, getting painted by suddenly blooming flowers and dunking themselves into the river. Several of St. North's elves scramble about frantically, and get as much paint on themselves as any twenty eggs combined. Yetis set to painstakingly hand-painting eggs individually, only to yowl pitifully when told to start over and paint them blue. It's about the time that Bunny starts shouting out his plans of stuffing bathtubs full of eggs that Jack decides all this is far too much and he has to find peace and quiet.

That thought in mind, Jack sets off to find where the Sandman is. Really, Jack would just like to leave, but he has no idea how to, so, he goes to find the Giver of Dreams, since he always has a mellow aura around him.

Jack has been wandering around for a while, and is pretty sure he is lost when Baby Tooth flies up to him and begins pulling his hood to get his attention. She's not trying to lead him back toward the commotion, so Jack feels there's no harm in following her when she beckons him. That's how Jack comes across a crying Tooth, hidden in one of the many nooks of this field they're in. Concerned, he lands on the ground, creating a few snowflakes to get her attention.

Startled, she whips her head up and quickly wipes away her tears, "Ooh, hello Jack. What are you doing here?" Jack looks at his shoulder where Baby Tooth is resting and then back at Tooth, "She brought you here?"

Jack nods.

Tooth gives a nostalgic giggle, "My fairies have always been a little over-protective when it comes to me," Baby Tooth chirps in denial, "Really, I-I'm fine, I just - with everything that's happened today - my fairies a-and Sandy..." She trails off, sniffing. Jack is confused. What about Sandman? What happened?

Jack supposes the confusion is plain on his face as Tooth realizes, "Oh, you don't know, do you? Oh Jack, Sandy - he, well he... Sandy died Jack. Pitch got him just after the incident at Jaimie's house. An arrow to the back. We couldn't do anything except fend off the new nightmares," She wipes at the tears that reformed in her eyes during her explanation while Jack stares stunned.

The Sandman is gone? No longer will beautiful streams of gold light up the night? Silence. Comfort. Dreams. They are all gone? That's - That's just...

No! Sandman isn't supposed to die! He has a purpose, people who will miss him, cry for him. Jack is the one who needs to die. He was there at the house. If he hadn't been such a coward, he could have gone. He could have helped. He could have died...Except right now, that thought doesn't seem as appealing as it used to. He can hear Sophie laughing in the distance, and the flutter of Baby Tooth's wings by his ears, and he sees the concerned look in Tooth's eyes directed toward him.

He doesn't want to die.

"Jack? Um, not to sound rude or anything, but why are you smiling?" Confused, Jack touches his face to find that, yes, his lips seemed to have curled up into a grin so wide his teeth are showing. His cheeks hurt from the unfamiliar strain, and Tooth is beginning to look at him like he's a piece of steak and she's a starving lion, but he can't bring himself to care. He doesn't want to die! It feels marvelous and freeing, and he feels so much lighter now that he thinks he should be floating without any help from the Wind.

"Your teeth!" Tooth squeaks and suddenly several dainty fingers are inside Jack's mouth, poking and prodding. His momentary high immediately turns to panic and he leaps backwards, clumsily collapsing backwards onto the ground, "Sorry," Tooth said, looking abashed, "It's just that your teeth are so sparkly like freshly fallen snow. I don't know if I've seen such pretty teeth before. Why do you keep them hidden? You should smile more,"

As if following her own advice, Tooth grins herself and flies back into the air, "Thanks, that was exactly the pick-up I needed. Let's get back to work helping Bunny with Easter,"

She holds her hand out to Jack, and he stares at it for a few moments, trying to decide if it looks dangerous or not, before he clasps it and Tooth helps pull him up. Her new smile is directed at him. It holds a familial fondness to it, and even though the thought of Sandy's death weighs on Jack, he can't help but feel giddy in the face of everything that happened in the last minute.

Throughout the day, Jack learns that the reason everyone is so dutifully painting the multitude of eggs is because Easter is their lat hope in saving the belief in children. Jack helps, even though all the noise still makes him wish he could just hide in a hole, if only because the Sandman's death should not be in vain. When they finish, Jack finds himself crouched next to Bunny and a tired Sophie staring out onto the seven tunnels that lead to the seven continents.

"You're not so bad, mate," Bunny states quietly, suddenly. Jack's head jerks in his direction, "I mean, you've helped out a lot, what with Sheila's little mini tooth, and paintin' the googies, and helpin' with the little ankle-biter here," He shifts Sophie, who gives a huge yawn, "Ah, poor little ankle-biter. Look at her, all tired out," His tone is quiet and loving, just like that of a father's.

"I love her," Tooth whispers, causing Jack to flinch. He didn't notice the other two Guardians coming up to them, "I think it's time to get her home," Bunny hands Sophie over to her, but Jack immediately stands up, holding out his hands, silently asking if he can take her.

"Are you sure? I'm perfectly fine taking Sophie," Tooth asks, a frown of concern on her lips. Jack purses his, and slowly lowers his arms. He doesn't really want to part with this child just yet, but if Tooth really wants to take her home, it's fine...

"Look at 'im! Like somebody just ate all 'is Easter chocolate!" Bunny says with a laugh, no traces of scorn in his observation, "Sheila, ya better give him the ankle-biter. I think 'e's shown 'ow well he can 'andle 'em anyway,"

She smiles fondly, "You're right. Here Jack. Be careful out there. You never know what Pitch will do," Elated, Jacks scoops Sophie from her arms and nods before he flies off.

"Don't get hurt you three!" Tooth calls from behind for good measure. Jack is confused until he hears the buzzing of Baby Tooth's wings beside him and smiles at his newfound friend. Jack turns and grins at The Guardians, all teeth. Though it's mainly to see Tooth gasp in awe, he doesn't miss the shocked look of St. North and Bunny, and he can't help but to release the bubbling laughter that's been building inside him all day. He's startled once again by the sound bursting from his lips, but this time it doesn't stop.

Jack is still giggling softly while he tries to softly pry Sophie away from his neck and onto her bed. It takes effort, but he finally manages to succeed, only to have her roll off and land on the floor, and even that is somehow hilarious. Jack hears Sophie's mom calling up the stairs so he haphazardly throws a blanket and a stuffed doll over the girl before leaving.

Jack flies up into the sky and takes a moment outside to look up at the stars and the moon and relish in this feeling. He's happy. He's happy, and content and... and for the first time in a long, long time, Jack feels hope.

"My Little Snowflake, what a surprise to see you alive and well! Very well, in fact. Why, it almost makes me want to eat you up all over again,"

* * *

_So Jack _was_ smiling after all. Well, I'll just have to fix that, won't I? _

_To all of you who favorited/followed me and my story: Thanks so much for your support!_

_**LadyPsycho16**__: Ah, yes. The startling of roommates with spontaneous fangirlling. A concept I can relate to. Thanks about Jack's personality. Confession: his personality is loosely (very, very loosely) based off my own, only, multiply the trauma and depression by about a thousand, and you have Jack. Sadly, most of the Jacks floating in my head tend to be happy-go-lucky, so they rubbed off on this one and he got a brief break from his insanity... And now I'm ranting. Thanks for the review!_

_**Taranodongirl1**__: Wish granted. In fact, it'll happen next chapter... but, as they say, be careful what you wish for, it might just come true..._

_**Night-Fury1**__: Well, thank you very much. Hope this is soon enough. XD_

_**Alaia Skyhawk**__: Jack needs a lot of things, really. But yes, he sorely needed a hug. And he sorely needed this day, too. It was probably a balm on his cracked soul. Of course, nothing can ever just be good for the boy... no..._

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: I'm an amazbulousupeool author? Score! I've always wanted to be amazbulousupeool. Hope this is soon enough!_

_**AyameKitsune**__: Yeah, Sophie's adorable. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Bunny! Hop hop hop!_

_**I.F.T.S**__: Woah. Wow. religiously? I'm super touched by that you think so highly of my work._

_**Eternal She-Wolf**__: Guilty-as-charged. Esse is undoubtedly one of my favorite authors. In terms of fan fiction, I might hero-worship her a little. I've always admired how authors could insert broken phrasing into their writing - it makes it feel so much more poetic, so I thought I'd give it a go. I'm glad you like how it turned out. Originally, I was going to have Pitch be the evil bastard kidnapper, but I tossed that particular idea out very quickly do to some personal headcanons of mine that would really just lead to many incredibly awkward situations later. Like, seriously awkward. Thanks for thinking so highly of my work, and also, you should give your story a shot. You'll never know how it'll turn out, if you don't try, and I've read your stories. They're awesome!_

_**Goddess-of-Genius**__: Only amazing? You harm me *insert dramatic pose here* No but seriously, thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it and hope you will continue to do so._

_**Guest**__: ...Oh look, an update! Sweet! Honestly, I don't usually know when I will update my next chapter until it's already posted so I can't answer that question, sorry, but thanks for the support. It is appreciated._

_**Jackiefrost**__: *Wipes teary eyes* oh. Oh, I wasn't expecting such an amazing response. Oh no, my speech isn't planned out at all *pulls out piece of paper* Let's see, I'd like to thank my family, for, you know, keeping me alive and only mostly sane. I'd like to thank my readers for... reading. I'd like to thank -_

_**kairitonks**__: Yeah. I always get really sad (and then annoyed, and then I usually try to write it...) when I can't find a plot I want to read, so I'm glad you like this so much. _

_**Kony**__: Glad you like it!_

_**Qwerty124**__: Yes, cool. Literally, in Jack's case._

_Thanks you guys! See you next chapter!_


	7. In Which Jack Has A Relapse

_Alright, so, remember that thing about me not being able to do anything on Thursdays? Well, turns out, I lied! Yay for you guys! So here's another chapter, just because I can._

_Also, just one more thing: this chapter has a cuss word in it. I figured it wasn't a big deal, but if anyone is particularly insulted/angered by it, I will remove it._

* * *

**...Or In Which Jack Talks...**

Jack's breath catches in his throat and suddenly everything he was feeling a moment ago is gone, replaced with dread and panic, "Oh come, it's been so long, let me see your face,"

Jack doesn't want to turn around. He wants, more than anything, to fly away as fast as possible, but his body is not listening and before he knows it, he's facing eyes of crimson sunset and hair of bright fire, and though no one has walked through him recently, Jack's one and only desire right now is to die.

"Aw, no words to say? Not even a 'how've you been?' I'm hurt," He holds his hand above his heart in a useless display of theatrics.

Jack opens his mouth to say something - whether to comply with what the man said or to tell him to fuck off, he doesn't know - but no sound comes out. Jack's voice has abandoned him yet again, and this time he can't ignore the blow that causes him. He tucks his head and tries to stifle the tears coming - crying doesn't solve anything.

The man delicately grabs his chin (and Jack can't believe he forgot how much being touched hurts - burns - and why has he let so many people touch him today?) to lift his head. Jack is suddenly forced to look into orange eyes, surprisingly close orange eyes. He wants to move, to scream, to kick and fuss and get away, but he is paralyzed by the insanity he beholds - insanity and excitement. The man's smile gets wider and wider until it impossibly stretches from ear to ear, rows of jagged teeth showing. Jack can't help but think that he really will be eaten.

Then the man is pulling away, holding Jack's staff in his hands.

Both Jack's scream of shock as he falls and his scream of pain when he hits the cement far below are silent; the Wind's scream, however, as it loses the ability to lift Jack, is probably heard around the world.

The man seems to pay no attention to the hurricane-level gale as he touches the ground, twirling Jack's staff, "You might want to run," He says, and it carries over to Jack,

despite the Wind's shrill screams.

Jack suddenly finds his temporary paralysis is gone and, despite the lack of oxygen and pain pulsing throughout his body from the fall. he scrambles up and runs as fast as he can from the man before him. The thought of trying to get his staff back does not even cross his mind. He runs mindlessly away from the laughter echoing behind him and only dimly notices when the streets and houses transform into dirt and trees. He doesn't notice when branches catch on his clothes and skin, doesn't register his bloody knees from when a lifted root sent him skidding along the forest floor. He does hear the man playfully calling for him, and it only causes him to surge forward faster.

The next time he trips, he crawls into a nearby bush and hides, hoping the man won't find him, that he'll get bored of his games. The Wind has died down to a mournful keen around him, but Jack silently begs it to fall silent so that it doesn't give him away. It seems baffled by such a request but complies, and suddenly the wood is

completely silent, even the usual chitter of the critters living in the forest is gone.

Only then does Jack hear the footsteps. Only then can Jack truly hear the man saying, "Come out, come out where ever you are!"

Jack holds his breath when sandaled feet come into view. They pause for a moment, and Jack wonders if he knows, then they move on, "Hmm, wonder where he could have gone?" Jack breathes a silent sigh of relief.

He hears the panicked chirping of Baby Tooth, "Oh hush little bird," The man chides, and Baby Tooth gives a pained squeak.

Jack's realization of what's going on trumps his terror and Jack flings himself out of the bushes. The man immediately turns around, and from the look in his eyes, he knew where Jack was all along, "There you are! Fun as that was, I was beginning to get bored,"

Jack stares at Baby Tooth, who is currently held in the man's left fist, his right still clutching Jack's staff nonchalantly, and for this moment Jack feels nothing but hate pulsing thorough every fiber of his being for this man.

He seems to notice Jack's focus on Baby Tooth because the man questions, "It is important to you? But I thought this was Queen Toothiana's little helper. I was going to trade it to her for some fun, but I'd much rather trade with you. What do you say, Snowflake, will you be good?"

For a moment he is very tempted to day no - for a moment he is willing to sacrifice a mother's daughter for his own safety - but he sees Baby Tooth, even terrified as she is, shake her head selflessly, telling him to go away, and Jack feels embarrassed for his selfishness. He must save her - after all, big brothers must protect little sisters.

So he nods, and the man immediately looses Baby Tooth into the air, waving her away much like he did when he tossed Jack out of the cave. Jack stares at her and silently begs her to leave. He doesn't want her seeing this. Conflict is obvious in her eyes, and for a moment Jack fears she will stay, but eventually she nods with a determined look and flies off. His companion the Wind appears to be gone as well, and though Jack has never felt so desolate and lonely, he breathes a silent sigh of relief.

"Now, the fun can really begin, oh and, just so you know, if you break your deal, I will personally hunt down that bird and tear her apart feather by feather, understand?" Jack nods jerkily and flinches when the man puts his hands on his shoulders.

"That's not an answer," He growls, "I will hear your voice, Jack, one way or the other, even if I have to rip it from your throat. Even if I have to rip it from your friend's throat,"

Jack doesn't have a voice! He can't talk! He hasn't been able to no matter what he's done. His chest has held a black void where his voice is supposed to be for half a century, only just starting to heal today, but now the crushing void is back. Jack. Has. No. voice!

Yet, "Y-yes," is wrenched from his throat, little more than a hoarse whisper. Tears are flowing freely down his face now. Why? Why does this man have that kind of power

over him? Jack is horrified, disgusted.

Broken.

A broken puppet and this man holds the tattered strings.

"Good. Now, strip,"

* * *

_Alright, so, first before anything: That ending? Yeah it insinuates rather unpleasant situations to come. I will tell you this now. I will write many things, but I don't write smut/rape/sexual encounters. I just don't. I won't subject my readers to the torture that is my smut. It's a horrible monstrous thing, really. So, it may never come to explicit light what happens next. Feel free to let your imaginations run wild._

_Also, this story deals heavily in mature themes. For that reason, do you, my readers, think I should raise the rating up to mature? _

_Preview: In the next chapter, we'll get a different perspective on things._

_Alright, boring stuff over. Now for the part everyone really reads fanfics for: Review Time!_

_Thank you everyone who followed/favorited this story!_

_**AyameKitsune**__: I can end it there because I am an evil and horrible person who loves cliff hangers. Here is more!_

_**Night-Fury1**__: Well Jack speaks... don't think that was what everybody was hoping for though..._

_**Taranodongirl1**__: YOU'RE WELCOME YOU'RE WELCOME YOU'RE WELCOME XD_

_**EpicDetour9**__: Thank you. So much. I'm grinning like such an idiot right now because of your comment is that awesome. The first chapter was originally going to be just a one-shot type drabble/ character-study thing, so it holds a slightly different layout/feeling than the rest of the story, but I'm glad you like all the chapters! I'm glad you like this Jack's personality! _

_**Animehuntress**__: O.O *rereads comment.* My story's worthy of a reread? Oh my gosh. oh my gosh. Oh you guys are so awesome! If reviews were food I'd be eating five-star dinners every night... That was weird. I'm weird, but that's okay. It makes me a good writer. And you guys are awesome! This chapter is an offering I give in return for your awesomeness. _

_**Alaia Skyhawk**__: Yes. Yes it did, and Pitch the Nightmare King didn't even have to do anything. Poor him, drama king that he is, he'll probably throw a hissy fit that someone got to Jack first..._

_**LuvFiction**__ Xxxx: It's scary how much I relish in being evil. It really is. It's a good thing Jack is here for me to have an outlet on. That way, I won't take over the world. Unfortunately, that means Jack gets the fuzzy end of the lollipop._

_**I.F.T.S**__: You assume correctly. He's an evil b $t rd. Unfortunately, evil insane dudes have away of getting their way. So... Sorry Jack. you're stuck with the evil dude for a bit._

_**Fumus000**__: Hope is the Thing with Feathers... Sadly feathers are fragile things that are easily torn away. And Jack was just making such good progress too... Oh well. Summer spirit. Good guess, though not exactly right. Though, if someone really guessed who this is, I'd be really shocked. Like, REALLY shocked. Since I've given almost no clues as to who he is so far. Also, yeah, the Nightmare King has a different role in this story. That's all I'll say on that right now._

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Don't forget to get North and Tooth too. They'd want a chance to give Mr. Sunset what-for too. Also you might wanna prepare a fluffy teddybear and some trauma blankets for the poor boy too. (Thanks. I love writing it.)_

_**Eternal She-Wolf**__: Cliffhangers. don't they just drive ya nuts? Absolutely bonkers. Mr. Sunset probably got left with too many cliff-hangers and that's what drove him insane. yeah, about half the Jack's in my head act way to young for their supposed age because when he woke up, he knew literally almost nothing, and had no one to teach him. Wih the additional trauma added, Jack. Has. Issues. I might check that out, but I haven't really gotten involved in the HP-verse in so long that I don't remember quite a bit of it (spoiler: my main memory of that series is: HOW DARE YOU KILL SIRIUS IN SUCH A STUPID WAY?!)_

_No. I wouldn't think you're copying my story. Sophie being Jack's first believer is not an idea I created. Like you said, it's simply logical._

_**Jackiefrost**__: Yeah, my favorite part of reviewing stories is when the author replies back. It just... feels nice to know you're appreciated. (Also, sometimes the author gives away minor spoilers when they do something like this so it's interesting to read). So, I like to make sure to personally thank my reviewers for taking the time to not only read my story, but actually put in the effort to tell me what they think about it. You guys are the ones that drive me to keep writing this._

_You all are amazingly awesome! See you next chapter!_


	8. Interlude - A Different Perspective

_So... I'm kinda nervous about posting this because it's not from Jack's pov. But, hey, nothing quite like a change of perspective for a minute. So here we get to see a couple other's thoughts on this situation. Also, we finally get a name for mister Sunset. Also, Since Jack can't talk, he's never actually "named" Baby Tooth, and so I named her Plume._

* * *

**...Or In Which Mini Tooths Have ADD And Pitch Has Anger Issues**

Plume doesn't want to leave. She doesn't! She wants to stay and help her new friend, but she's just a mini-tooth and she is very small, and Jack has already sacrificed so much to free her... but she can't just leave him alone! He's saved her twice now!

Think think think.

Wait, maybe one mini-tooth alone can't do anything, but Mother can help! Mother and her friends. They will help. They like Jack, Plume knows this, and they can help. She must believe.

Believe believe believe.

Mission in mind, the mini-tooth gives Jack a determined nod and flies off toward Mother. They will help. They must they must. Mother loves Jack's teeth - Mother thinks Jack is important. Jack saved Plume. Now it's Plume's turn. She must hurry.

Faster faster faster.

Jack is danger and Plume must make it to Mother and Mother's friends on time. She must ignore the strain her wings are feeling. It hurts hurts hurts, but she must go faster. She must save her friend.

Jack Jack Jack.

Will Mother still be at the Warren? What if Plume is too late? No, Plume can't be late. Faster, she must go faster. Mother can help. Mother's friends will save Jack. Jack is in trouble and only Plume can get help.

Help help help.

Why is this taking so long? She flies across the world for teeth every night. Why is it taking so long today? There! The Warren! Don't worry Jack, Plume is almost there. Faster, faster! Eggs are everywhere and it's so colorful. Where is Mother?

Mother Mother Mother.

There! There she is! _Mother, Mother Jack is in trouble. He's in trouble and it's Plume's fault and they must save him. Hurry hurry hurry. Mother listen Jack is in trouble!_

"Shh, little Plume. What's wrong? Where is Jack?" Mother asks.

_Too slow too slow. Mother, Jack is in trouble. Evil, evil man. We must hurry. We must save! Faster Faster_!

"Jack's in trouble?" Mother repeats.

"What's up with Frostbite?" Mother's friends the Easter Bunny asks, suddenly interested.

"Plume says Jack's in trouble," Mother translates, "What happened to him?"

_Plume doesn't know. Evil, evil man. Jack traded, saved her. They must hurry Mother, faster faster! Come on!_

"Alright. Let's go," Mother responds - finally! -

_Come come come_.

"Not that simple, mate. What about Easter? I can't just leave my eggs unguarded with Pitch on the loose!" Mother's friend explains.

How how how? How can he think of eggs? Jack is in danger! Plume should pluck out all his fur, she should peck out his eyes!

"Woah, calm down sheila. It's not like I don' want ta go 'elp Frostbite, but I've got to think about the world here,"

"Is Pitch attacker?" Mother's other friend North asks.

_Evil. Evil. Insane man. Plume doesn't know him. Simply evil evil man._

"No. It's not Pitch," Mother explains, "But then how are we going to guard the eggs _and_ save Jack?"

_Hurry! Jack is in danger NOW_! Why why why are they taking so long? Jack is hurting - he was laughing and now he is sad! Quickly quickly come!

"Who is it?" Mother asks, touching the single golden feather of Plume's forehead. Plume remembers. She remembers mad mad mad orange eyes and inferno hair. And Mother sees this, Mother can see all the mini-tooth's memories. She remembers Jack's face - smiling first, then sad sad sad. Jack Jack Jack is hurting. He is breaking because of the evil evil man. The man with the barking voice and orange eyes and fire hair.

Mother gasps and breaks the Link.

"G-guys. We'll have to take our chances with Pitch. We HAVE to get to Jack now!" Mother exclaims, finally realizing how much Jack must be hurting, "He's with Set,"

"No," Bunnymund hisses.

"But - that's impossible!" North exclaims, "Set vas imprisoned! He cannot get out!"

"Plume has seen what she has seen, and she saw Set," Mother shoots back quickly as a snake.

_They must hurry!_

"Yes, Plume, we're coming," Mother says with finality, "We must save Jack,"

The other two nod, and the three Guardians set out.

_Finally_!

Pitch laughs in delight as he watches the lights disappear from the globe in front of him. Finally, after centuries of waiting, planning, and preparing, finally he will get his revenge! The Guardians think they can eradicate fear without repercussions? Well, by the end of the day, they'll know better.

More lights are still flickering than he would like, but by the end of Easter, that will no longer be a problem. He already has in his grasp the memories and dreams of children. Once hope is lost, wonder will be quick to follow, and Pitch will have won. It's almost too easy. The moment he took his long-time rival the Sandman out of the picture, he could feel the spike in fear from the other three Guardians - fear of him - and he knew this little war was all but won. Of course, there is the little matter of Jack Frost...

Almost unwillingly, Pitch's mind flashes to the winter sprite he met at the Tooth Palace. He knows of Jack Frost - what spirit doesn't? In a little under two centuries, Frost has caused more chaos and mayham than every spirit before him in the last five millennia combined. Then, one century ago, he just disappears off the face of the planet. The boy reappeared almost half a century ago, causing a deadly storm around the world. Pitch recognized potential when he saw it, and the boy was powerful, a diamond in the rough. Pitch had tried to find the boy, but Frost was always moving, always just out of reach, always filled with just a hint of fear, and that is truly what caught Pitch's interest. He never could get close enough to figure out this fear of the boy's or how strong the fear was, but it was always there.

When Pitch finally met Frost for the first time at the Palace, he was shocked to say the least. This was the boy who froze the Summer Queen's castle solid? The child who stole one of Cupid's arrows and hit the annoying Spirit of Love with it, forcing Cupid to fall in love with a tree for a month?

The boy there was nothing like the spirit of legends. He was scared, singly holding more fear than Pitch could consume in a year. When Pitch sensed his fear from a distance, he never could have guessed how complex and dominating it was. Why, even his fears had fears! It was nearly intoxicating, but it was nothing like how he imagined Jack Frost to be. Jack Frost was supposed to be a simpleton with a knack for mischief; a spirit with straightforward hopes and fears that Pitch could manipulate.

Instead his mind was a convoluted mess, and the more Pitch thinks about it, the more he wishes to delve in and solve the puzzle that is Jack Frost. What makes the boy tick? What shattered his mind so? Back in the Palace, Pitch - still high off his small victory over the Guardians and reeling from the amount of fear the boy held - had been rash and in a hurry. He didn't get a chance to see anything more than the shallow and obvious fears the boy held - fears of being alone, unwanted, useless - and he didn't think much of it. Now he wants to see why. Why the boy is not only afraid of being alone, but afraid of admitting he is afraid of being alone, yet not fearful at all of dying. It is a puzzle that Pitch wants to solve.

A small breath of air ruffles Pitch's hair and he turns to reprimand whatever Nightmare decided it is a smart idea to stand close enough to Pitch to breathe on him.

...But nothing is there.

Cocking an eyebrow, the Nightmare King scoffs and turns his attention back to the globe. The nightmaresand creatures are a relatively new creation of his, and they are still rather uncooperative, trying to scare him so they can feed off his fear. Scaring the King of Fear. What a ridiculous notion!

Regardless, his nightmares are getting restless, and though it's a little early to start phase three of his plan, Pitch figures it can't hurt to be prepared now. He is about to group his nightmare sand together to get them in position to ambush the Warren when frantic chirping sounds out behind him. With a snarl, Pitch turns around to make true on his earlier threat to stuff pillows with the mini-fairies, but what he sees stops him.

All the cages in his lair are swaying, as if a strong breeze is blowing them, but the air here has always been stagnant. No wind has ever come here before. As if to prove him wrong, the small drift of air gets stronger, and soon the cages are swinging wildly, nearly hitting each other from the force of the ever-growing gale.

"What is this?" Pitch growls as the tempest hits him, forcing him to take a step back. Despite his best efforts, the wind is forcing him backwards, away from the frantically chirping captives and the creaking cages, away from his globe. Any of his new Nightmares that try to get close are immediately blown into pieces from the strength of the howling wind.

Pitch is just blown out the entryway of his globe room when he decides to put a stop to this, "ENOUGH!" He bellows, his voice is the voice of haunted souls screaming for repentance and tempting sirens calling humans to their deaths and it ricochets off the walls in the sudden silence that follows.

"What prank is this? Who dares mess with me now?" He calls out to the intruder he knows must be here - even if he can't sense any presence except that of himself and his fearlings. He won't admit it, but it is unnerving. He knows everything that happens in this realm. How can someone sneak in without his notice?

Instead of answering, a small breeze pushes against him, as if coaxing him in that direction. He scowls and narrows his eyes. The wind repeats the action. Slowly, a grin - though it's actually more of a snarl - forms on the Nightmare king's face. This miscreant wants to play? Fine, Pitch has a couple hours. It won't take that long to teach this poor naive little knave of a soul what it means to anger the King of Fear. Pitch follows the direction the wind is blowing.

It is a slow-going process. Whoever controls these gusts of air obviously doesn't know the way around Pitch's lair. Pitch often finds himself backtracking at command of the breezes, and every time he does, he grows more irritated at the spirit playing these games. When he finds the culprit or culprits, he will be sure to crush their spirits.

It's just as the wind guides him to the entrance of his lair - a process that takes much longer than it needs to due to the guide's complete incompetence - that Pitch recalls Jack Frost is said to be able to harness the power of air to fly. It only makes him more determined to find the puppeteer behind this game. If it is Jack Frost doing this, Pitch will take particular joy in sorting through the boy's fears, and then utilizing them to destroy the boy from the inside out.

Now that he is out of his lair, Pitch's guide seems much more confident in his leading, the wind getting more fierce with each step Pitch takes. It's almost as if it wants to simply pick him up and take him to his destination faster.

After a short walk Pitch finds himself at his destination - a clearing with a frozen lake. The wind circles around the Nightmare King once before stilling altogether. He's not surprised to find Jack Frost in the clearing, but he is surprised to find the state the child is in. The winter sprite is completely nude, bruises, cuts, and bites covering practically every inch of his exposed body. He's hunched over his staff and furiously ripping the bark off of it with splintered fingernails. Consumed as he is by his mindless terror, the child doesn't even notice Pitch's presence.

...Clearly. Pitch doesn't need to break this boy's spirit, someone else already has.

He expects the disappointment at the loss of his new puzzle, but he doesn't expect the sudden and all-consuming anger that flares up at whatever spirit did this.

And he certainly doesn't expect the pity he feels for the spirit before him.

* * *

_Okay! Thanks guys for reading. We get back to Jack next chapter! Also, in case it was confusing. Plume (and all mini-teeth) don't "talk" per say. They chirp and what not, so I couldn't put her speech in quotes. Also, thanks for the feedback on my questions last chapter!_

_Truthfully, I'm all kinds of insecure about this chapter. Giving Pitch a role in this story was not in my original plan, but the Wind fell in love and from there, he just used his shadow powers and kinda crept up on me. And besides, who better to help traumatized kids than the one dude who understands everything there is to know about fear? ... Uh oh, this may be a bad ideas. Guardians, hurry and get there already!_

_Lastly (I swear!) Set. Set is an evil insane mofo. Seriously. He's messed up, and he was messed up before I even took him and turned him into this... thing. He comes from Egyptian mythology and... dudes he has issues. At least, that's what I got from the research I did. I'm sorry if I happen to insult anyone by using Set like this in this story..._

_Alright, now for the fun part!_

_I'd like to thank with all the grace of the moon those who favorited/followed my story!_

_**AyameKitsune**__: Don't worry. I'm pretty sure everybody hates that guy, and yeah. Pitch's fearlings might just get to take a whack at him._

_**Qwerty124**__: Your name is super fun to type. Just fyi. Yeah, Poor Jack. I feel bad for him. I really do, even if I have the biggest, silliest grin on my face right now. Don't worry revenge will come...probably._

_**Utasaki N**__: I'm sorry. You'll have to wait yet another chapter to figure out what happened to Jack. I can tell you this: he got fucked up. Just when he was beginning to get better too..._

_**Guest/Jackiefost**__: No: THANK YOU for reviewing. Well, the guardians will sure as heck try, but... well, I don't think they were quite fast enough..._

_**Fumus000**__: Wow, well you picked up the unusualness of my feathers comment, but that wasn't originally a hint I was giving. Hope is the Thing With Feathers is an excellent poem by Emily Dickinson that I can't help but quote when people mention hope. Seriously, like it's a poem practically dedicated to Bunny. And a phoenix? Wow, that woulda been a super cool idea; sadly, no, Set's not a phoenix. I like phoenixes too much to use one as an evil bastard. Actually, my character Set is based on a real myth (an oxymoron is I've ever heard one) and you can look up his backstory online if you want, but I'll be explaining my slightly altered version of it later in the story. no, but seriously, the dude was messed up before I even took him and made him the mofo in my story._

_**Night-Fury1**__: Pitch, yes he can be. but he can also be very helpful if he decides he wants to help... Yeah, I figured the cussing wouldn't be a problem, but one can never be too sure..._

_**Guest**__: Okay. Yeah, cool then I'll just maintain my t-rating until further notice. Thanks for your input! I might do gore later. Gore's fun._

_**EpicDetour9**__: Set is a bastard. And creepy. And insane as fuck. And cocky to boot. Honestly, someone just needs to drop him from a cliff and impale him. Slowly. Well, I don't think the story will get much worse than it is for a while so I'll just keep the rating the same until then. Thanks for your input! _

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: Oh? I'm super curious! What was your idea?...but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to..._

_**Guest**__: Another re-reader? Please excuse me while I break into deliriously happy tears. You people may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. Seriously. Tears. God, I love you readers. And thanks for the input. I'm just... I'm gonna... take a break and... bask in happiness for a bit..._

_**I.F.T.S**__: Good. Set's not supposed to be liked. The Guardians would rather risk the world being taken over by Pitch than lett Set roam free. Seriously. He's that bad._

_**Final Syai Lunar Generation**__: Welcome to the madness that is my story! Yeah, I think all Jack Frost fans have this secret (or not-so-secret) sado-masochistic side to them that loves to depress themselves by reading Jack-torture stories. Well, good predators must have some kind of lure for their prey. Set's is probably his beautiful eyes. So, even if he doesn't deserve them, he still has them. Hmm, yeah, the guardians will probably go all bamf on Set's ass, and Pitch will probably join them... maybe. Or perhaps Pitch will take matters into his own hands... I like me some bamf Pitch..._

_**LadyPsycho16**__: Yeah, I still plan on updating in the evenings... And I hope you can get your inner-fangirl to calm down. Nothing is scarier than a raging fangirl... except maybe a raging Pitch teamed up with the Guardians..._

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Yeah! Yeah, you got this! Oh, and don't forget to get some of Bunny's chocolate and about ten tons of ice-cream. Oh, and a blueberry pie. Jack loves blueberry pie. Don't worry Jack. I'l give you to Lady here and you'll be in good hands. And naw, North won't mind, Just tell him it's for Jack and he'll be like, "Oh, vell then, take anything you vant!"_

_**Rise of the Mean girl RotG MG**__: *Nods approvingly* Dark and Good are what it's meant to be, so I'm glad it is. I'll try to keep up my good work, but I can't guarantee that my genius will always be with me in writing my chapters. Meh, we all do what we can. _

_Once again, Thank you all. You're awesome!_


	9. In Which Jack Continues To Have Issues

_I don't have much to say about this chapter. It's a fairly standard Jack is extremely traumatized transition chapter, except now Pitch is here to make everything more clear. I love writing Pitch, even if he frustrates me to no end and I have to rewrite everything he does five times._

_Oh, silly me. Just in case any of you were wondering, I don't own any of the characters in Rise of the Guardians. I don't own RotG. And I'm not making any profit off of writing this story._

* * *

**...Or In Which Bunny Has An Epiphany**

He left again, as he always does. The man leaves as if he did nothing, as if Jack is nothing (_because he is - Jack IS nothing_), but though his is nothing - nothing and broken and alone - Jack still continues to draw in shaky breaths. Yet even those are broken by sobs. Jack's throat hurts (just as _everything hurts_). The man held true to his word. He dragged ragged screams right out of Jack's tattered body, and even though Jack knows the clearing is silent right now, he feels like he can still hear the horrid sounds echoing off the trees. Just like he can hear his broken pleas ricocheting through his mind.

Broken.

Everything about him is broken.

The sky above Jack is starting to brighten as the sun begins its daily trek, and Jack - limp on the ground - watches as the as stars fade and blink out of existence. When the last glittering light dies out, Jack's eyes languidly shift to gaze at his staff, carelessly tossed on the ground next to him.

He can see them. The burns on his staff from when he was imprisoned. They're there, even though he knows they healed decades ago, they're there. Putrid black marks marring the wood's surface, mirroring the marks on Jack's own body. The two lay prone on the ground, broken, useless, and ugly.

It incites an irrational fury in Jack. It's not a fury meant for anything, and it's not directed at anything. It is simply there, festering in Jack until he finds he cannot stay still in the face of the writhing beast inside him.

The marks must go.

He claws himself toward his staff and drags himself off the ground to glare at the stick. They need to disappear, the black scorch marks marking his staff, the black bruises littering his body, the black void filling him. He needs to get rid of it all.

He doesn't bother lifting his staff from the ground, merely bracing it with one hand and clawing at it with the other. He immediately feels a pain rake down his back as if he is flaying himself alive, but he ignores the pain (_it's nothing compared to a single bite from a man with sunset eyes_) and rakes his hand down his staff again. Sap bleeds from the wounds Jack leaves behind but he can't stop. He can still see the burns.

The feeling gets worse when Jack breaches the barrier of bark and starts his work on the living sapwood of his branch. He feels as if all his skin should have fallen from his muscles by now and as he claws more, he feels as if he is swallowing hot coals that are burning through his insides.

He holds back the scream he feels building inside. He doesn't want to scream - doesn't want to hear himself do that ever again - and he refuses to release the monster raging inside. He doesn't want to let this go - his emotion. It's his. The only thing that is. It's raging and fueling and consuming and numbing every wound on his body and filling every crack in his soul. Just like him, it's useless and broken and ugly -

And why won't these damn burns come off?!

He's about to give up on clearing his staff of its scars and start working on tearing his bruises off his own skin, when something touches his shoulder. A monster. A demon. A man of twilight.

He does release a sound then - a growl or a whine he isn't sure - as he scurries away from the fiend, clutching his sap-weeping staff. But he doesn't see the monster man of sunsets. No, he sees... Someone else. He can't remember. He knows this face, but he can't think beyond discovering a man not of sunsets. He is dark - all made of shadows. And Jack should know this man!

He growls when the stranger takes a step forward. A growl is acceptable. It's not a shout or a scream or a beg like the voices rebounding through his head.

The man narrows his eyes and asks in a low, angry tone, "Frost, who is responsible?"

Jack doesn't want to respond, but questions summon answers, and Jack can't help but think of the man of sunset eyes and nails pressing into skin and pain and fear.

Make it stop make it stop! NO He doesn't want to remember this! He can feel sap, like tears, freezing on his hands as he grips his staff tighter.

Knives stained red. Teeth covered in blood. Tears. Tears of pain, of sorrow, of shame.

It's pain and fear and now that Jack's thought of one memory, they're all flying by his mind in rapid succession.

Being tied in the cave. His staff on fire; his skin falling off. Being hurled on the ground. He's alone. He'll always be alone. No one came. No one. Jack is selfish. Selfish. He won't be selfish. He can't be selfish, otherwise it'll happen again. NO He doesn't want it to happen again! Fear! Cold and dark - Warm and painful. Both are fear and he doesn't want it to happen again!

But it did. Again. And it will, again. Always always. Hot - dark - painful. He doesn't want it to, but it will and Jack is scared. He is terrified of twin sunsets and flame hair.

The man hisses, shocking Jack out of his painful reverie, "You are afraid of Set? That is the man who did this? And he's done this before? How long has this been going on?"

Jack doesn't get chance to answer as a hole opens in the ground and three people come out of it. He knows these three too - there should be four, he thinks - but right now he can't attach their faces to any known identities other than _not the man_. The lady of feathers notices him first and gasps tragically, hands covering her mouth and tears shining in her eyes.

"Shostakovich!" The large man in red half exclaims, half whispers when he sees what she does.

Jack notices the rabbit-man the same time that the rabbit-man notices Jack - but this time Jack reacts first.

A little whimper escapes his throat before he can stop it, and he finds himself climbing up a nearby tree to get away from the rabbit-man. Jack remembers him - definitely remembers him. He hates Jack, promised pain to Jack next time they saw each other. But why is he here? Jack hasn't caused any huge storms recently. Maybe he's here to remind Jack just how selfish he is... Another sneaky whimper escapes his throat.

"Well, congratulations rabbit. I honestly thought the boy couldn't get any worse, but your mere presence does just that. Impressive," The shadow man points out sarcastically. The other three just realize that he his standing there and immediately draw their weapons.

"Pitch!" The rabbit-man exclaims, and Jack gasps as he remembers the name of the shadow man. Pitch Black, "What're ya doin' here? What 'ave ya done ta Frostbite?"

"You assume I did this? Don't be ridiculous. Despite what you seem to think, I'm not some low class fearling going after whatever scrap of fear I can find," He waves his hand toward Jack dismissively, "And I prefer my fear with a bit more depth and intelligence than that of a rabid animal's," The rabbit-man opens his mouth to retaliate, but Pitch interrupts, "Please think before you speak, rabbit. I had nothing to do with it. You, however, play a large part in this, if the boy's fears say anything,"

That gives everyone a pause. The group of three all look confused, while Pitch looks smug.

Eventually, the rabbit-man asks, "What do ya mean, Pitch?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's not me the boy ran away from; it was you. He's terrified of pain, of noise, and of attention all because of you. But I can only read the boy's fears, not the actions that caused them. So, you tell me, Bunny. What have you done that scares the boy so?" Pitch has a pleasant smile on his face, but it does not reach his angry eyes and all around him shadows writhe about restlessly. Jack presses his back into the bark of the tree, trying to shrink from sight as the rabbit-man glances up at him in confusion.

"Bunny?" The lady of feathers enquires, the unspoken question in the air.

"I-I don' know Sheila. I 'ave no idea why 'e's scared'a me. I only met 'im once before the Guardian thing an' that was..." He trails off as a slow horror dawns in his eyes, "No. Oh no. I-I didn' mean any'a it. I was angry is all... I didn' think - I mean, he was Jack Frost. He was always pulling stupid pranks. I'm sure 'e got worse scoldin' than what I gave regularly. I didn' think..." He trails off and hunches down on all fours, as if he lost the strength to stand up.

The rabbit-man is right, now that Jack thinks of it. He remembers several occasions where spirits forewent the warning altogether and immediately went after Jack's head for something he'd done. On those occasions, if Jack was lucky, he'd escape with nothing but a few laughs at the memory. If he wasn't...well, he's had to piece together his staff more than once. But those spirits were merely angry. The rabbit-man, though, he was right. Jack _was_ being selfish, and he should be punished for it.

"Bunny?" And yes, Jack remembers! That is the rabbit-man's name! "Bunny? What are you talking about? What happened?" The lady of feathers asks, a tremor in her voice.

"I didn' mean anything by it. It was - it was Easter, ya know? An' Frostbite caused a storm; practically cancelled my 'holiday. I was angry. An' I just - I just-"

"Let me guess," Pitch interrupts with a quirk of his brow, "You didn't think before you spoke, and you didn't let the boy explain. Oh, and I would bet all my Nightmares you called the boy selfish,"

All attention is on Pitch as Bunny asks, "H-how'd ya...?"

"How did I know?" Pitch finishes, looking far too amused, "Simple, really. The boy fears being alone, but he's also afraid of admitting that he doesn't want to be alone. In fact, he's afraid of admitting he wants anything. He's afraid of being selfish. Of being hopeful, and it's all because of you! Oh beautiful irony!"

Again, everybody is speaking as if Jack isn't there (_because he's not - not really. He is nothing, nonexistent_). He wishes they would stop, all of them. Stop everything. Stop admitting Jack's fears. Stop looking so sorry. Stop looking horrified, or amused, or tragic. Stop looking at Jack.

Just stop everything and, "Go away. Go away. Go away,"

"Jack?" The lady of feathers asks. Stop looking. Go away, "Jack, you can talk?" He spoke? He spoke. Oh god, he wasn't supposed to speak. Not ever again. Speaking is bad and selfish and shameful. He shakes his head. He can't speak. No no no, not ever again.

The man of red takes off his large overcoat and holds it out, "Jack, vhy don't you came down and we can be treating wounds," Jack eyes the coat, then the man holding it and curls into himself further.

"Jack, dear, nobody here is going to hurt you," The feather lady soothes from her spot on the ground, and for some reason, Jack thinks that is wrong. She's not supposed to be on the ground. She's supposed to be in the air, flittering about freely. Everything about this strikes Jack as wrong, somehow. Bunny shouldn't be staring so blankly in the air. The man in red isn't supposed to look so jaded. Pitch shouldn't be showing concern. He curls into himself further to try and hide away from the wrongness of everything, wrapping his arms around his legs and burying his face in them.

He hears chirping and a soft exclamation of, "Plume," and when he glances up, his vision is filled with the little face of Baby Tooth. She gives a guilty little trill, and Jack unfolds his arms to cup her in his hands. She shouldn't feel guilty. Not for this. This was his choice, and little sisters should not have to be exposed to things like this. No, she should be with her mother - Tooth, Jack finally recalls.

He's finally able to push past his mental block and reallysee Tooth, and North and Bunny, the three Guardians, who are for some reason, alongside Pitch, their enemy. North, who is always jolly and optimistic. Tooth, who is always busy but always has time for her family. Bunny, who is always headstrong and confident... who said that Jack isn't so bad. Finally. Jack knows why everything is so wrong with this scene. Suddenly the world shifts. Jack can think again. He can push past the emotion that was clouding every thought. Unfortunately, without the barrier of his emotion, the pain of his wounds come back with a fury.

With a hiss, the winter sprite loses his balance topples off the branch. His cuts burn, his bruises ache, and his stripped staff's pain screams through his very soul, forcing one last howl out of him. He's unconscious before he even hits the ground.

* * *

_Note: If it seems as if Pitch can practically read Jack's mind, it's because he practically can. Pretty much every thought of Jack's is tinted with some level of fear. And Pitch can read fear like a book. _

_And, hah, take that Bunny. See what you did? Poor Jackie._

_Next chapter: a preview into Set's past_

_And now the fun part!_

_Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed: I'm almost at a hundred followers already! You people are epic!_

_**AyameKitsune**__: Unfortunately, you'll have to wait a little bit longer for that, but hey, the longer the wait, the better the reward right? And wow. You read that chapter fast. _

_**Qwery124**__: Yeah, and I like Pitch too much to not give him a role. _

_**AnimeHuntress**__: Honestly, that last chapter wasn't what was expecting either, but it seems to have caught people's attention so I'm not complaining. Pitch is fun to write, but he's difficult so it's like a fun challenge writing him._

_**Gotta Love Pugs**__: Refreshing to read AND refreshing to write. it's a win-win situation! cool. Personally, I am too, but I'm only the writer. I have no control over what my characters do..._

_**LadyPsycho16**__: Interlude. Honestly, I might have the definition wrong. Half the time I use words, I use them just because they sound cool and not because I have any idea what the fuck they mean. I like the word interlude so I'll probably use it everytime I write a chapter not from Jack's pov. The Easter Fiasco thing gave me so much trouble. Finally, I was like, screw this. Pitch: help Jack._

_**Doglover11**__: Woah! No, I don't plan on turning Jack evil in this story. I think I can say that without spoiling anything. Pitch might turn into moderately good though... and won't that just be the weirdest thing?_

_**Night-Fury1**__: Yeah, in my mind, Pitch is this super dramatic, world-dominating diva, who happens to hae a soft spot for Jack. Because Jack just has that effect on people. And slightly? Yeah, this is gonna go into left field in relation to the movie. I'm just not sure how to realign the events now with that of the movie._

_**Night's Flower**__: Ya know? I tried so hard to fit Pitch attempting to comfort Jack into this chapter, but it just would. not. work. Pitch isn't delicate. He's just like. Tell me who did this so I can rip them apart. And naw, Jack's not trying to kill himself. He's just going insane and seeing things that aren't there and compulsively trying to get rid of them. that's all._

_**Fumus000**__: Yes. Yes, the Wind would. Pitch is the only other being besides Jack that the Wind ever bothers to remember, and so... Originally, Pitch's POV was gonna be from the Wind's POV but when I was a page into it and still describing the link between Jack and the wind, I realized that just wouldn't work. and yeah, Jack was pretty much fucked up in every sense of the phrase. Just, not a fun day for Jack. At. All._

_**cartoon-crazy987**__: And people like you simply encourage me to write more. Bwa ha ha welcome to the deprived world of Shattered. Take a seat and enjoy the show. I'll do everything in my power to keep sucking you in._

_**Princess Merleen**__: Thanks! It's encouraging to know that people like it._

_**update bug**__: Yes, Set is literally Set. And yes, Set is a dick. He laughed when fish ate his brother's penis off. OW!_

_**LOSTcharlie-claireLOST**__: No such thing as too many cliffhangers. At least, not when you're the writer. Don't worry, though, someday I might stop with the cliffhangers... Like... when the story ends._

_**Guest**__: Yeah. Pitch Feelings. It's a bizarre thing. I think Jack just has that effect on people._

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Yep, and his clothes need to have a little pocket for Baby Tooth to fit in. Pitch had better help. If not I'll kick his ass._

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: Psst: I had no idea it was gunna be Set either, until about chapter five. _

_**Eternal She-Wolf**__: Nope. It's not wrong at all. Come on, join the club of sado-mashochistic fangirls in the world of Shattered._

_**I.F.T.S**__: God of Chaos who's just gone completely insane. Dude, the dude as issues. And I will never stop going on about that. Issues. Yeah, it was fun writing from different perspectives and I'll probably do it more, but I'm trying to keep the story primarily from Jack's point of view._

_**SnowBellPrize**__: CUpid: "Oh, Leafy - you don't mind if I call you that do you? I love you so, so much. I brought you chocolates. I would have brought flowers, but what with you being related to them and all, I figured you might not appreciate it..." "Leafy I love you. I'll do anything for you!" "Would you like to go on a date? ...No? You'd rather just enjoy the breeze? Oh! Okay, we'll just pic-nic here together then!" "Leafy, I love you, but this relationship feels very one-sided, I mean, I'm putting so much effort into it, and you refuse to even talk to me!" "Leafy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get mad at you! It's my fault, I'll be a better boyfriend, just don't be mad at me!" Leafy, Leafy, Leafy..._

_**Final Syai Lunar Generation**__: Well, like I said (I think, maybe) I may never explicitly state exactly what happened to Jack. But, at least you know why he was clawing at his staff... What? plot? Oh... damn, yeah I guess I have to come up with a feasible plot now, huh..._

_**IWillNeverStopFangirling**__: I'll try my best._

_**woleclipse25**__: Yes, Set is that Set. Although, I'm making some minor alterations to his backstory. Only minor changes though, because even though humans worshipped him as a god, he was just a spirit and as such he's not exactly what humans thought he was. But, I mean, no human has gotten any myth exactly right. After all, it's not like anyone knows the Easter Bunny is actually a Pooka. Bunny's rash and doesn't think before he acts. Jack's obsession with fairytales is that he believes himself to be not-real. Non-existant - a fairytale. but fairytales always have happy endings and since he didn't get one, he can't even be a fairytale. _

_**frosty3.0**__: Hmm. Oh. um... I'm sorry... Jack's ability to speak actually just came back, although he'll refuse to use it with such a passion that he'd might as well be unable to speak... if that's good enough? His inability to speak was purely psychological. A side-effect of all his trauma. Ironically, with the return of Set, he forced Jack to break that particular psychological box. _

_**Utasaki N**__: Yeah, that surprised Pitch too. He didn't know it, but Jack secretly wormed his way into Pitch's little , blackened heart without even having to do anything. And as for Set... Well... yes? Like I said, feel free to let your imaginations run wild. Raping is a sure-fire way to break somebody's spirit, and Set likes doing just that._

_Woah. This review section is starting to get long. Oh well. It's fun and you guys are worth it. See ya next chapter!_


	10. Interlude - A Brief History

_Ack, sorry fort the slight delay, guys. I wrote twenty-one pages of thy other story yesterday and proofread all of them and after that I just had to take a small break to refresh my mind_

_And other sad news: Life, jealous mistress that she is, having decided that I am devoting too much attention to my stories and not enough to her, took a frying-pan to my head. So I might not be able to update for a few days while I cater to Life's every whim in an attempt to appease her and avoid anymore frying-pan-induced headaches._

_In other news. I probably stated somewhere in the last Interlude that I wouldn't do many chapters that weren't from Jack's point of view. So of course that means I almost immediately do another chapter from someone else's pov. Here's to Bunny_.

* * *

**...Or In Which Set Is Explained...**

Bunny sits on a rickety, wooden chair beside a small bed upon which lies the unconscious form of Jack Frost. The Pooka always thought Jack looked small, but only now, with the child wearing only a set of thin, cotton scrubs, can Bunny see just how emaciated he really is. Every one of Jack's ribs can clearly be seen under a thin layer of skin. His skin-tone, naturally unearthly pale, is made even more so by the dark purple bruising and angry red lacerations covering him. All of it is bandaged now, but when the Guardians took the boy up to North's workshop to treat and saw the extent of damage, they had to pause to collect themselves.

While they were dressing his wounds, they found old scars under his new ones, numerous and diverse, suggesting he'd been through this before. One of the worst was a gouge mark running from his left shoulder to his right hip. It was rough and uneven, made by something more similar to a fishhook than a blade. Branded into his lower back in painfully intricate calligraphy was the word: Claimed.

But for all the wounds that were obviously inflicted by Set, the ones that were self inflicted hurt the Guardians more. On each of the boy's wrists were several, small white scars. At his temple was a faint, round burn, just the size of a bullet. At least two attempts at suicide, and Bunny can think of so many more methods that wouldn't leave any scars for the Guardians to see.

When the three Guardians had finished bandaging the boy, Pitch stepped out of his shadows and suggested, "You might want to check for internal damage in the pelvic region," Everyone had glared at him simply for being there, but he'd refused to leave the boy's side, and when Jack had fallen from the tree, Pitch was the one who caught him, so the Guardians made a grudging allowance in him staying.

They had followed his advice as well, and when they found signs of rape, Tooth had to leave.

Now, with Tooth still recovering from the revelation and North outside comforting her, Bunny is watching over the child and actively ignoring the constant presence that is Pitch Black. Jack whimpers and clutches his staff tighter - he wouldn't release it, even unconscious - and before Bunny can do anything, Pitch is there, wiping the boy's forehead with a cold rag.

Unable to stand it, Bunny asks, "What are ya doin' 'ere mate?"

"I'm making sure you incompetent fools don't mess this up more than you already have," The shadow spirit shoots back.

"Yeah? An' why do ya care about Frostbite here so much, eh? He wasn' nothin' to ya until you thought he was one o' us," Bunny only barely manages to restrain himself from shouting as he stands from his chair and faces down the Nightmare King, "Ya probably jus' want 'im ta 'elp ya take over the world!"

"Means nothing to me? I spent fifty years chasing after this boy, trying to figure out who his is!" Pitch retaliates, surging up as well and looming over the seven foot Pooka, "What have you done for him, Guardian? I'm not the one who rejected the boy. I'm not the one hurt him, who broke him, but you know that, don't you rabbit? You know what you did when you met the boy; it's you're fault he's like this! What right do you have to say about what I'm going to do with him?" His sass seemingly expelled, Pitch shrinks back to his regular size and sits next to Jack, opposite Bunny, and resumes wiping his brow.

Bunny looks down the limp form on the bed. He knows Pitch was simply reading his fears and spitting them back in his face, but he can't help but think that he is right. If Bunny had taken the time to listen then, could he have prevented this? If he'd lent a shoulder to the boy then, would the bullet mark still be there? No, no it wouldn't be, he is sure of it.

It's all his fault.

He's shaken out of his wallowing when he hears Pitch snickering at him, "Ya bastard," He spit, sitting back down, "Ya did that just ta get a rise outa me,"

The Nightmare King shrugs, "Perhaps, but that makes what I said no less true,"

Bunny grits his teeth. He knows that, and he will have time to be regretful and try to make it up to the boy later. Right now, he and everybody needs to care for Jack's physical needs and find Set. He can't be wallowing in misery just yet.

Set...

The lunatic spirit wasn't anywhere near the lake by the time the Guardians had gotten there. Apparently, he'd already left by the time Pitch had arrived as well; although, Bunny still doesn't trust the King of Fear enough to take his word at it. If Pitch didn't know about what was happening, how did he find Jack before the Guardians? He is interrupted from his musings when Tooth and North reenter the room, Tooth having recollected herself. She flits to the bed, Plume (who had been forced to stay out of the room while Jack was being treated) darting from her shoulder to land beside Jack's head.

"Why-how could Set do this?" Tooth whispers, "He's just a child,"

"Th' bloke's off 'is rocker, ya know that," Bunny replies, although he's in just as much disbelief as she is - if not for the same reasons.

Set had once been a good spirit, or at least a moderately tolerable one. He'd always been a braggart. Of course, he could often back-up his prideful boasts with his extraordinary combat prowess. Bunny still remembers his first meeting with the - at the time young - spirit.

Set had the reddest hair Bunny had ever seen, and it constantly moved as if it were blowing in a breeze, even if wind was nowhere to be found. He was smiling - when was Set ever not smiling? - and hugging his newlywed wife, Nephthus, about the waist with one arm as he chatted with his brother, Osiris.

Bunny had been invited to the wedding, although he wasn't sure why. He'd heard of Set, of course - it was hard to when he went around playing tricks, causing storms, and generally just making a nuisance of himself - but he'd never personally met the young spirit before.

He soon discovered why when, after a grand feast, Set invited him to a duel. Set, Bunny learned, never bypassed a chance to showcase his skills, and what better way to prove battle prowess than take on the infamous Bunnymund - inventor of martial arts?

Bunny accepted the challenge, naturally. He'd teach the braggart a lesson.

The battle lasted three days before they called it a tie.

Their next duel, a few years later, Bunny won.

And Set took the next victory.

Over the years, the two warriors had bonded over their fights. Whenever Bunny wasn't busy taking care of his googies, and Set wasn't causing a storm, they'd get together and discuss various strategies and techniques, or Set would sometimes try to set his senior up with a date. It never worked.

Once, Bunny had given Set and his wife a matching set of glass eggs inside which the Nile flowed through a desert in miniature for their first centennial anniversary. They were one of a kind and Bunny had put hours of back breaking work into making them.

In return, Set flooded the Warren.

No lasting damage had been done, and Tooth got a laugh out of the whole ordeal, more from Bunny's grumbling face than anything. Really, though, no one could expect anything different with the Spirit of Chaos. The phrase, "Expect the unexpected," was practically invented for Set.

Chaos was his Center, and he used it to keep life interesting for both humans and spirits.

But then something had gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. Set's Center twisted and warped. It consumed him. It happens, occasionally. Something happens to a spirit that pushes them over the edge, drives away their sanity and allows their Center to run wild. All spirits are vaguely aware that it could happen - in the same way that people are aware of violent murders and natural disasters. It happened; it just didn't happen to people you know.

So when Set's harmless pranks became a little less harmless, Bunny didn't think anything of it. He figured that maybe Set was simply having a bad week or was currently in one of his rare arguments with his beloved wife. It never occurred to him that Set's Center was spinning out of control.

Not until Set took his brother Osiris and ripped him to shreds with his bare hands.

Only then did Bunny realize what was going on, and by then it was too late. Set was too far gone. So, Bunny did the only thing he could do, he gathered the Guardians to hunt down his friend before he could do anymore damage.

But Set was unpredictable on a good day. Fueled by the single desire to spread chaos as he was, Set was nearly impossible to find. All they could do was follow the disasters the rampaging spirit left behind and hope for a lead.

They were on the hunt for two years before they finally discovered where he now took residence. It was a cave - a maze of tunnels really - the entrance of which, Set could open anywhere he chose. That day they didn't find Set, but they found Aphrodite, bound by chains to a wall in a dark room. Even after they got her out and treated her and put her back in the company of loving friends, she refused to talk, to sleep. She refused to do anything until eventually her Center of Love faded away and she slipped from existence. Manny quickly chose Cupid to replace her; the world couldn't go on with no Spirit of Love.

They found Set a month later, while he was freely gifting food to a hungry child. Despite knowing better, Bunny had tried to talk to his best friend and fellow fighter. He tried to bring him back, to no avail.

Set attacked them, not out of self-defense or anger, but simply because he could. He laughed hysterically, and cried hysterically, but he was always smiling. Set always smiled.

This battle also lasted three days, but this time, Bunny won.

There are two ways to kill a spirit. The first, many know of. A spirit is dependent on his or her Center. If they go against their Center long enough, they will fade from existence, just as Aphrodite did. The second is a closely guarded secret, one Set discovered on accident. It is possible to kill a spirit by physical means, but it takes nothing less than ripping every limb apart and keeping the limbs apart so they don't heal back together. Set did this to his brother, and as Bunny crouched above the defeated Set, he couldn't bring himself to commit the same act.

Instead, Set was cuffed in moonbeams and placed in an eternal slumber by the Man in the Moon before the Guardians placed him in an egg-shaped cocoon of Bunny's making and buried him under the Nile. Set had always loved the Nile.

They had hoped that if he rested peacefully for long enough, that would be considered going against his Center of Chaos and he'd be able to fade away without the violent and painful act of tearing him to pieces.

Obviously that didn't happen.

Bunny couldn't figure out how Set escaped the spell placed on him, still couldn't quite believe that his one-time friend would be willing to do this, but he knew one thing. He would find Set, and this time, he would ensure that Set could never take any victims again.

* * *

_Sorry, this chapter has very little plot progression, but I figured now's a good a time as any to learn about Set. Also, that thing about tearing up his brother. That's part of the actual myth. The. dude. has. issues._

_Also, it just occurred to me that I ten to make Bunny an ass in all of my stories... I wonder why? I mean, I actually do like Bunny... _

_Next chapter: Stuff will likely happen._

_Okay, Fun Time!_

_Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed this story so far! I'm now into triple digits. Tears. Of. Joy._

_**Dreamaker401**__: Thanks. It pleases me to know I am ripping hearts out... aaand that's not weird at all. Nope. Pitch is fun because I can be all kinds of melodramatic with him._

_**AyameKitsune**__: Yeah, ooh boy. Well, first, Jack's gonna have to convince eveyone he's not crazy when he tells them the Wind has a crush on Pitch. Wow. that. Conversation._

_**Qwerty124**__: Yes. Yes they are. With Pitch there, the plot might actually progress a little._

_**Tello**__: Feeling ways about stuff is always good. I'm glad you think it's good._

_**Jackiefrost**__: Yeah, I'm a total Pitch sympathizer so I just couldn't resist but add him in. Yeah, the Guardians have a bad habit. It's like if you don't talk, they forget you're there. The same thing probably happens with Sandy a lot too._

_**EpicDetour9**__: Sorry for missing a day. I'll do my best to keep up my updates... but Life is holding that frying-pan very threateningly... And I hope you like the explanation of why Set does what he does..._

_**I.F.T.S**__: Set's past, from Bunny's pov. Just to make this story a little more tragic._

_**Guest**__: Good, or, ya know... moderately tolerable._

_**Night-Fury1**__: Blows on fingers. Yes I am. Glad you liked the last chapter that much._

_**Mystery Girl Who Writes**__: I in every way agree with your statement. Emphatically._

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: Well, I hope you can learn to tolerate Pitch. He's a cocky bastard, but he'll be showing up a bit if for no other reason than I love to write him. And poor Bunny; I have a bad habit of making him an impulsive idiot. Well, hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story!_

_**Guest**__: Tentatively. They very tentatively put aside their differences. With lots of glares. and banter. and Pitch showing everybody up. _

_**Fumus000**__: Manny. I have a whole rant in my head right now about Manny that I won't subject my readers to. And Sandy. Don't worry about that. I've got it handled. Mostly. Kinda... A little... Yeah, I like Set because he does all the crap he does just because he can. There's no better bad guy than the bad guy who does bad things just cause he can._

_**Goddess-of-Genius**__: I haven't actually read the Guardian's of Childhood series, but I can almost certainly tell you that he is not from those books. But neither did I make him up. Set (or Typhon) is from Egyptian mythology. He was the God of Chaos. I took that and bent it to my purposes._

_**Alaia Skyhawk**__: Yes. Yes he should have, but then we wouldn't have this wonderful story because Jack - being Jack - would have mostly recovered from his extremely traumatic experience and would have made a friend in Bunny and there'd be no angst. _

_**Whitewolf**__: Pretty much. Unless one of the characters decide they don't wanna cooperate with the plot and I have to make changes to my plan. That happens more often than I'd like to admit._

_**Eternal She-Wolf**__: You mean "seeing Pitch SNARK at the Guardians" I don't think he'll ever stop being an ass._

_**phantomworks**__: Set's really strong. I don't think they be able to fight Pitch and Set at the same time. Especially with Jack mostly out of commission. Especially with their believer count so low... Wow, the Guardians are in a bad way right now._

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Jack will love it. Once he stops freaking out and panicking about it. I'll try to keep updating as much as I can for sweet readers like you. _

_**Guest**__: Thanks! ALways nice to know people like my characterization. And Yeah, without Pitch, there'd be almost no plot progression so thank Mim for him. And Set, well, he's mostly explained above. Why specifically Jack? Well, perhaps it's just because he's gone completely insane... or perhaps there's something more._

_**Final Syai Lunar Generation**__: The plot is developing very slowly. Rabid Jack was fun to write. Sorry on the chapter dedicated to only Set. Every story needs a boring backstory chapter._

_**Sleepery**__: I should clarify. I won't explicitly write the rape out, but I'll imply and infer the hell out of it. Oh NOES you found my one weakness! Must. Resist. The British. Accent..._

_**KitsuneMagic48**__: I do too. I'm a sucker for a good happy ending._

_**therosebaron**__: Oh, hello again no-longer-an-anon. Hopefully, following this story will lead you to great places._

_ Thank you again great people! Sorry for the possible mini hiatus that we may all have to suffer through._


	11. In Which Jack Needs To Stop Thinking

_hey guys I'm back! Sorry for the exceptionally long wait on this chapter. Stuff happened and I temporarily lost my Angsty!Jack. Don't worry though. After writing pretty much ever other type of Jack out there, I've gotten him back. This chapter is primarily introspective and thus very little happens in the way of actual plot progression, but hopefully things will pick back up next chapter._

_Oh Disclaimer, Oh Disclaimer! Wherefore art thou a Disclaimer? The Rise of the Guardians property by any other name still doesn't belong to me!_

* * *

**...Or In Which Pitch Continues To Make Everything Worse For Everyone. Damn You Pitch.**

Jack knows something is wrong as soon as he wakes up. He feels constricted, warm. He's not supposed to be warm. He is cold, always cold. It's not the most comfortable feeling, but it comes with the touch of his snow and the comfort of his Wind, so he has become used to it over the years, now even coming to appreciate the almost-numbness in his fingers and a slight sting of the constant chill brushing his skin.

Now warmth is seeping into him, and it feels wrong, weird. It makes him drowsy. He can barely stir in the pressing heat, his energy seeping slowly from the various wounds across his body. He tries calling to the Wind to get him away from the hotness, but the Wind isn't here - wherever "here" is. Though Jack keeps his eyes closed, he can tell others are in the enclosed space by the scuffling of feet and the whisper of breaths. A low growl, a soft, snide laugh. A blissfully cold, wet rag sweeping across his brow.

Jack tightens his grip on his staff to keep from whimpering when the cold dampness is pulled away and the sting of his still-healing branch brings him to full awareness with a sharp gasp. Immediately, everything in the room simply stops. No more worried whispers. No more buzzing of wings. Jack isn't even sure if anyone is breathing as he opens his eyes and looks to see three Guardians and Pitch crowding around him.

Jack knows he's not breathing. They're too close. Too many. Too warm. They're looming over him, staring at him; He feels constricted, and it brings to mind unwanted memories of being tied up, ropes chafing, as _he_ smiles at Jack. Almost instinctively, he tries to tear away his bandages covering him with his free hand, but he is stopped by a small feathery hand.

His breathing comes back tenfold, making up for the time he went without. He feels lightheaded as he tries to inhale and exhale almost at the same time.

"Jack, Jack. It's okay. Everything's going to be all right," Tooth murmurs in what Jack supposes is supposed to be a comforting tone, but he can't really focus on deciphering the meaning behind her voice's specific influxes when she's holding his hand with one of hers. he tries, weakly to escape - his strength still too lacking for him to do any more - and she gets the hint quickly, taking her hand back with a soft, sad smile on her face; her eyes, not looking directly at him, are simply sad.

She knows. Jack suddenly realizes. He wonders if his breathing will ever get back to normal as he looks around and sees similar faces on the other Guardians. St. North is looking at him as if he might break at the slightest touch (and isn't that ridiculous? He doesn't need to worry about Jack breaking. Jack is already broken - has been for so, so long). Bunny's jaw is clenched, anger and disbelief shining through his eyes. They're all paying attention to him, but they refuse to look at him for longer than a few seconds. Which, in the end, he supposes makes sense. Who would want to see him? He's the physical embodiment of everything that's wrong with the world. He's tragic, broken, filthy. A cracked puppet. Who would want him?

When Jack turns to Pitch, he expects - fears - the same thing. He will see anger, depression, pity, disbelief. He will get another side-long glance, an unsure aversion of eyes. It will all be too much.

Instead, the King of Nightmares has on a distasteful frown as if he ordered a meal and it came to him cold. It's not addressed toward Jack. He's not looking at Jack, not attempting to secretly peek at him, nor avoiding his gaze. He's simply directing his scowl completely and totally to the other three present.

Then he does turn to look at Jack, directly, straight at his eyes, and Jack finds himself to be the one looking away, "Jack," the man says, and in that one word is a greeting, an inquiry to his well-being, and a command to look at Pitch all at once. Jack never know someone could fit so many meanings into a single word.

Jack can feel the man's gaze burning into him, and he can't tell if it's better or not than the avoidance of the others' gazes, but deep down, a small piece of him appreciates it. Perhaps, that part of him thinks, Jack isn't the worst thing in the world. Perhaps, being the King of Fears and Nightmares, Pitch has managed to find something even more decrepit and pitiful than Jack. He isn't sure what to think about that. A part of him recoils from the thought that such a being exists; another takes a sick relief from it.

A deeply buried part cries out in a desire to find that being and let it know it's not alone.

Jack can feel as the atmosphere in the room gets more tense as silence lingers after Pitch's one-word statement. The air here is nothing like the Wind's caressing touch. It's stifling, and Jack wants out. Out from the stares and glares and aversions. He want to get away, but he can't, and maybe some small piece of him doesn't want to after all. Secretly, Jack revels in the attention, and the thought horrifies him because he shouldn't want that. This is his problem, something he should work out for himself by himself, but he's just so tired of trying to. He wishes the choices could be taken out of his hands, the responsibility passed onto someone else.

That was why he sought out death. In death, there are no choices. Everything is final, and everything is simple.

But, back then, death hadn't been an option. It was an impossibility, another thing Jack craved but couldn't get. He'd desired it because it was foreign and mysterious and unattainable. Then death became an option, and suddenly it wasn't so simple anymore. At first he'd been elated. Finally! He'd found a way out! But now...he isn't sure. Now, he wonders if dying is the right way. Well, right now, falling asleep and never waking back up again sounds like a great idea, but is it for the best? He isn't invisible anymore, people are here, and Sophie can see him (hear him, touch him!). What if, just maybe, someday far away from now, his life has a possibility of being better? Death would strip him of that future. On the other hand, everything could stay the same, and he could exist on for eternity, waiting and hoping and having his hopes crushed, for the day something changes for the better. That is infinitely more terrifying than death could ever be, and so death seems like the better option.

But then the 'what if' flashes through his mind again.

Suddenly, death isn't an impossible dream; it's a forbidden fruit, placed in his hands.

And he has to make the choice whether or not to enjoy its bittersweet flavor.

Jack doesn't want to choose.

Why is this all so complicated?

"Jack," Pitch repeats, "Look at me,"

Jack finds, much to his surprise, that he'd curled himself into a ball, head tucked into his knees, arms wrapped around himself like a shield. When had that happened? He loosens his grip enough to glance at the King of Nightmares from the corner of his eyes. From this angle, Jack can't see the spirit clearly, and that's just fine. He doesn't want to look at faces right now.

"At least he's not completely catatonic," Pitch says flatly. "He responds to commands well enough," Jack flinches. He doesn't need to be reminded of commands followed. Like a lost poppy, like a small child, he'll blindly follow instructions given. It's horrific and disgusting. Jack hates himself for it (for being a broken puppet), but he understands, now, why he does it. If someone tells him to do something, his actions are taken out of his hands. Jack doesn't have to choose anymore. Someone tells him to do something and he obeys.

So it's their responsibility. Their fault.

Jack immediately feels bad for thinking that. He shouldn't be blaming others. No, his actions are his alone. They're his fault, and how dare he throw responsibility on someone else's shoulders. It only proves that he's too selfish to accept it, that he's too weak to bear it.

He closes his eyes and buries his head into his knees, trying to curl into himself further. This is all horrible and getting him nowhere. If only he could make that decision. If only he could be his own person again. But no, Jack very much doubted that would happen. The possibility of better? Hardly. This is life. It won't change; nothing ever changes. Not really, he's in a room full of people, but he's still alone, and he'll always be alone. He has his voice, apparently, but he can't talk anyway. He won't allow himself to, and it's not as though talking has ever solved any of his problems. Sophie can see him now, but she'll stop one day. He doesn't know why she can see him, but she'll stop. At the very least, she's sure to die, tomorrow or a century from now, and that just makes it worse than before because Jack knows now. He knows what being seen, what not being walked through, feels like, and once he's invisible to everyone again, everything will just be that much more terrible.

Yet everything will remain the same.

And if nothing ever changes, and Jack always remains a useless, broken thing, then he should just die. The world would be better for it, later.

...But what if...

Jack hears a pained gasp and reflexively searches out what is wrong. It isn't that hard to find; everyone's gaze is focussed on Bunny, who is doubled-over in harsh pants escaping from him. The rabbit clutches at his chest, trying to breathe, and Tooth immediately flutters over to him.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" She pats his back, trying to soothe him. It doesn't seem to work, but after a minute he manages to pick himself up again.

"I-I dunno. I think something's wrong with my googies. I need to go check. I'll be right quick. I just need-need ta make sure their makin' it to the kids," Something in his expression tells Jack that Bunny suspects they actually aren't, "You can keep an eye on Frostbite while I'm gone, yeah?" He asks the other two Guardians, but the way he pointedly side-eyes Pitch makes Jack think he's actually telling them to watch on the Nightmare King.

After a short nod on St. North and Tooth's part, Bunny taps the ground twice, summoning up a tunnel that he immediately jumps down. It closes after him, a tulip impossibly growing up from the hardwood ground of St. North's workshop.

A beat of silence later, Pitch snaps his fingers exclaiming, "Oh, I didn't tell my Nightmares to abort the attack. I can't believe I forgot," Despite his words, Pitch's malicious tone indicates that he didn't 'forget' anything at all.

* * *

_alright, that's it! If the chapter title doesn't quite make sense right now, it definitely should next chapter. This is kind of sad, but I realized somewhere between last chapter and this one that this story actually has a plot. Why? This story wasn't supposed to have a plot! It was supposed to be Jack being all depressed and the Guardians trying to fix his issues! When did Pitch and Set and the Sophie and the World become involved in this? I really need to think before I write..._

_Also, it's come to my attention that people don't actually like long author's note, so tell me, dear readers, would you rather I stopped replying to your reviews? Would you rather I pm'ed replies to those who I can? Would you rather I didn't reply at all? Or do you not mind having my replies in story?_

**_Thanks to all those who favorited/followed this work._**

_**AyameKitsune**__: Ah, Pitch. Well, Pitch through circumstances, had taken quite a liking to Jack Frost (in a very nonsexual way because Pitch is essentially a sentient shadow/fearling thing.). He sort of touched on during his point of view. But I'll delve into it later. And the Wind...in a bizarre way it already has hurt Set. Don't worry if that makes no sense. It'll be explained later._

_**Dinogeek**__: Bunny was so sure that everything was over when he trapped his friend beneath the Nile. But yeah, he needs to finnish this job before anyone else gets hurt._

_**Alaia Skyhawk**__: Things will. Next chapter. hopefully. I'm glad you like his backstory. It was fun to write. Jack's life sucks, but Bunny's life sucks too. He's just had more years and friends to help him get over his traumas._

_**Eternal She-Wolf**__: I will admit that I've never heard that phrase before but I can guess approximately what it means. And Jack's wake-up was a bit anti-climatic in the end. Sorry. I had originally meant for a shit-hits-the-fan-Jack-freaks-the-fuck-out moment, but it wouldn't work. So instead we get this. I guess Jack's jus gone beyond the realm of freaking out into something else entirely. Something more dangerous. He's gone to Emo Teenager Mode._

_**LuvFiction Xxxx**__: Aaawwww, thanks. I hope the two-week wait didn't dishearten you too much._

_**Guest/Synoel**__: Jack just has this... thing that draws even the most hard-hearted people to him. He's irresistible, even depressed as he is. Okay, so warning: major wall of text full of unnecessary info coming your way. Fifty years is a long time for us humans and even for Jack, but you have to remember, Jack is actually really young in terms of spirits. Set comes from ancient Egypt so that's about five-thousand years ago, and most of the Guardians were born long before he was. Holiday spirits often spend their time encouraging and developing their respective holidays obsessively, and seasonal spirits tend to stick to their own seasons. Those things combined means that fifty years isn't freakishly long to not see one particular spirit, especially if said spirit is someone like Jack Frost. He's flighty and hard to find on the best of days. Also, it probably didn't help that the Wind was indeed searching for Jack. It went on a rampage, searching the world bit by bit, and spirits, knowing that Jack Frost is one of the few people who can control the wind, probably thought it was just him being annoying. Mim and Mother Nature I perceive as fairly ambivalent spirits. They won't or can't step in unless the world is actually in danger. (Like say, if Pitch tries to take it over, or if Set goes around creating international chaos.) Besides, they both watch things from a distance, and if one only very distantly observed Jack's habits over the fifty years between his release from captivity and when he got involved with the Guardians, they wouldn't see the whole: I-wanna-die-I-am-nothing-but-a-broken-toy thing going on in his head because he (at behest of the Wind) still interacted with people and played games. Even if spirits did notice and try to go searching for Jack, while he was confined, he was in Set's magical cave/home thingie. Nobody would have thought to search another spirit's home, especially a home that hadn't been occupied in thousands of years. And after he got out, as Pitch reflected in "A Different Perspective" the boy was always flighty, always moving, and quite purposefully avoiding contact with other spirits. Whew. Sorry for that wall right there. I didn't mean to throw all that at you, but I felt I should answer your questions as thoroughly as I could._

_**karasu99**__: No, it's okay. All children are secretly messed up in the head. People are allowed love Pitch. He has a sexy voice. Jude Law, dude, Jude. Law. Plus, he didn't tear his brother into shreds. But yeah, I suppose, even ridiculously crazy guys like Set need the occasional good word. And Pitch being good just doesn't fit in my head. No matter what I do. or try. He's an ass even at the best of times. I tried Pitch! I tried to get you to the light side! Why did you insist on pulling out this move? Why?_

_**Tello**__: excellent. *steeples fingers* you too are falling into the trap of Shattered. Bwa ha ha ha! Honestly, though, I'm flattered you like this story so much. I'm not sure what makes it special either, but I won't question it if my readers say they like it._

_**Final Syai Lunar Generation**__: Yeah. I figured giving his backstory a little bit of a tragic twist would make him just seem... I dunno, more evil? That... and I couldn't resist adding another tragedy to Bunny's growing list of them. Plot? What plot? Ohmygod! Plot! Eep!_

_**Sleepery**__: *Accepts cupcake with grin-of-thousand-suns* Yay! love love love cupcakes. That's all Jack really needs. A cupcake and suddenly the world will seem infinitely better. Seriously. I doubt Jack's ever eaten a cupcake. Oh. My. God. JACK! JACK GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW! I HAVE A CUPCAKE AND YOU NEED TO EAT IT!_

_**I.F.T.S**__: Noooo! Don't die! Here! have this chapter! and the next and the next (when I get them out)! I won't disappear for a year. Two weeks maybe, but not a year. I hope. God, I can't stand waiting 365 days for a story I love to update and I really don't want to put my readers through that._

_**Utasaki N**__: Oh I hope you didn't hit your elbow too hard. It's a little late, but here's a band-aid. Yes, Jack is young. Young young young. Especially for spirits. Poor child. I mean, he dies and then life just continues to suck._

_**DragonsFlame117**__: Pitch... really can't decide what team he's on. I don't see him ever really becoming friends with the Guardians. I don't think he can even manage to keep himself tolerable. Like, he wants to help Jack, but he's also got this whole vendetta against the Guardians that I can't see him setting aside, even as they face a threat that could potentially destroy them all. He has too much pride for that._

_**Night-Fury1**__: Yes, we do need fun Jack. Or at least a Jack who talks occasionally. Or, i don't know, plays pranks on people. Jackrabbit brotherly fluff FTW! If I write a story that doesn't manage to fit that in, feel free to alert the authorities that aliens have abducted me and replaced me with somebody else._

_**Lady dream-chan**__: Yes, Bunny needs hugs too. Jack's not the only one with a traumatizing past. I'm glad you're happy. What can I say? It's true, and if you're happy... well I just finished writing almost two thousand words dissecting Jack's mind... I'm not entirely sure I can be happy until the Jackness wears off. But as Jack would say: You're smiling so I must be doing a good thing. Right?... *Flails and Angsts.*_

_**Jackiefrost**__: Oh, um. Sorry about your heart? Uh, I hear they're overrate anyway. Feel free to replace it with this chapter, though. Yeah, I actually can't either. I usually try to stay away from rape, both writing and reading about it, but there are always exceptions, and this is one of them. _

_**Fumus000**__: Yes! Yes, the most evil people are the people who do evil simply because they can! You can't reason with them; you can't find a chink in their justification. They don't care! They just go for it and ruin lives because it's interesting (ironically, I'm actually writing a story where Jack is like that right now...) The Big Four-Turned-Three are seriously having a hard time being in the same room with Pitch, but they tolerate it because he seems to actually care about Jack and he has way more experience in dealing with dark, depressing stuff than they do. Of course, they might not be able to tolerate him much longer..._

_**EpicDetour9**__: Thanks! A lot of people use Pitch as the break-Jack-by-raping-him bad guy, and while that's great, my own personal head canon is that Pitch isn't a sexual entity. He has a myriad of ways of digging his fingers into people's minds and emotionally shattering them without going for their asses... and I personally like working with myths already created because, well one, I don't have to put in the effort of creating the personality/origin of my original creation, and two... well, I don't know how to word reason two. I guess I just find it fun to work with whats there and see if I can bend it to the needs of my story. Plus, I get an interesting look into various cultures every time I have to search for a new spirit._

_**Beanatrix LeString**__: It has? Do you mean in terms of plot progression or updates? Well, either way, I can't make any promises. My writing takes me to the most unexpected places without my realizing it. This chapter was really slow, but, if I can steer my story the way I want to, the next few chapters will have action and plot twists and all the lovely stuff a story should have... Plot twists? What? I'm still freaking out over the fact that there IS a plot at all..._

_**KitsuneMagic48**__: What drove him crazy was a betrayal from the person closest to his heart. Of course, that may have just been the straw on the camel's back. He may have had many things going on, but it definitely broke the dam when he figured out about that betrayal._

_**jinx777**__: Thanks! _

_**hypercell**__: Sorry, it's not that soon, but here it is. I hope it was worth the wait._

_**Twisted Skys**__: Sorry 'bout the grammar. The technical side of english was never my strong point, and I know I have this odd obsession with using a ridiculous amount of commas. And incomplete sentences. I dunno, but if the story's legible and likable despite that, then I'm glad. I'll try not to take as long for the next update._

_**Taranodongirl77**__: I love Bunny, but I always make him an ass in my stories. Especially this one. Part of the reason I wrote the last chapter was because I wanted to show a side of Bunny that wasn't him just being an ignorant jerk to Jack. And yes, Bunny is very important. He's the perfect tool for writers in hurt/comfort stories precisely because of his annoying, brash, straightforward attitude. He doesn't take things gently, and he forces people to spit out what's on their mind. Still, despite that, his annoying attitude can be quite annoying sometimes._

_**clockworkangel77**__: I'm glad you find it interesting considering the multitude of Jack!angst fics out there._

_**Honey Badger 1**__: Let me defeat that itch with this chapter right here. Yeah, taking actual myths and using them is half the fun of writing in this fandom. To me anyway._

_** . .ice**__: Woah. Caps. Lots and lots of Caps. well, THANK YOU READER FOR LIKING MY STORY SO MUCH!_

_**Guest**__: Well, in my opinion, Pitch isn't just an evil ball of rage and hate. He's got feeling buried deep down inside him somewhere, and Jack is really good at drawing those emotions out. I mean, ninety percent of this fandom focuses around Jack in one form or another. Honestly, everything about him just draws people to him._

_**jordylilly777, NinjaDino721, TheSpiritDancer: **__Sorry, don't usually combine responses to reviews, but I would have essentially just repeated the same phrase three times if I kept them separate. Here's the update! Hope you like it!_

_Whew. That has to be some kinda record or something in Review Section length. Seriously guys, tell me if you want me to keep doing this or not. Lovs, see ya next chapter!_


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